


The Two Worlds

by pennysstuff



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elves are still Elves, Just not immortal, M/M, Mentions of suspected child abuse, Thranduil's A+ Parenting, awkward teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysstuff/pseuds/pennysstuff
Summary: In a world where the White Council has forced the races together in the name of peace, Legolas struggles with adapting to living with humans, dealing with his father's new marriage and attending a school with no other elves but him. When a family of elves moves in next door, he thinks maybe things will finally improve, but their arrival only brings a new set of issues. Unexpectedly, it is the human they brought with them that might be the answer he was looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

“And just where do you think you have been!”

Legolas jumped at the strident voice and suppressed a sigh. He knew he would be in trouble when he got home, but still, he hadn’t expected Thranduil to start on him before he’d even closed the front door. Steeling himself, he turned to face his father.

Thranduil stood in the middle of the lounge room scowling. Bain, Sigrid and Tilda sat on the lounge, anticipating the reprimand Legolas would get from their step-father.

Thranduil didn’t disappoint them.

“I was called out of an extremely important council meeting this afternoon, one which was vital for me to attend, because once again you…” Thranduil pointed vehemently at Legolas, “…did not bother to show up after school. You left your brother and sisters alone! Anything could have happened to them!”

They glared at each other while Bain muttered to himself, “He’s not _my_ brother.”

Bain sneered at Legolas with disdain. He was older than Sigrid – by a _whole year_ thank you very much – and refused to believe he needed to be babysat by his stupid elf step-brother. Who cared if Legolas was older than the three of them? Or practically an adult? Or any of the other lame excuses his father and step-father gave him? It’s not like Legolas actually gave a damn about any of them.

Sigrid gave Legolas similar black looks and nodded her head in agreement. She had been a virtual mother to her family following the death of her mother and now that her father had remarried, her role had been reduced to that of a dependent child. It wasn’t fair!

Tilda, as usual, was silent, her uneasy gaze flittering between the two elves and her human siblings.

“It was that dwarf, wasn’t it!” Thranduil continued, not giving Legolas a chance to reply. “I have told you over and over, nothing good will come of associating with that wretched creature.”

“His _name_ is Gimli, and this has nothing to do with him,” Legolas burst out, finally getting a word in.

Legolas was fed up with his father always belittling his best friend. His father hated dwarves with a vengeance and believed that, as an elf, Legolas should not lower himself to associate with one. As if his father could talk, Legolas thought bitterly, considering he married a human!

“That miserable dwarf is leading you astray,” Thranduil continued his tirade. “You used to be an excellent student, and a mature and responsible son. Now look at you! I hardly recognise you any more! You will get into serious trouble if you keep following him around like a love-sick puppy.”

Legolas shook his head. “I wasn’t even with him this afternoon.”

“Aw, did you and your boyfriend have a lover’s quarrel?” Bain mocked.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Legolas sighed wearily. Bain’s attitude towards Gimli was just as annoying as his father’s.

“Then who were you with?” Thranduil interjected, knowing the boys would explode into a full-scale argument if he didn’t keep control of the conversation.

Legolas looked away from his father before replying. “No one,” he replied, irritation creeping into his voice.

“So, what, you were simply wandering around on your own?” Thranduil asked disbelievingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I was doing,” Legolas replied. “I needed some time to myself.”

"Time to do what?"

“None of your business!”

Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up. “Do not speak to me like that.”

Legolas sighed in frustration but said nothing. There was no point arguing with his father.

“Very well, if you refuse to tell me where you were, go to your room and stay there. Do not come out until dinner is ready,” Thranduil commanded.

“But…”

“Go. Now!”

Legolas rolled his eyes and, with a brief glance at Sigrid, pushed past Thranduil and stormed up to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Once the door closed and he was alone, Legolas let his shoulders slump and he rested his forehead on the door for a moment. When he straightened up, he took his backpack off carefully, wincing when he bumped some bruises on his sides and back. Legolas walked over to the bed and laid down gingerly, trying not to hurt himself further. He closed his eyes, rested an arm across his face and tried to get comfortable. Unfortunately though, no matter how many ways he rearranged himself, he couldn’t find a position that didn’t ache.

A short while later he heard his bedroom door opening. Legolas was about to snap at whoever it was to go away when he recognised the soft footsteps: Tilda. He stayed still, hoping she would think him asleep and leave him be.

“Legolas?” came her gentle voice.

Legolas kept his eyes shut and tried not to show his irritation at being disturbed. Tilda was the only one of his step-father’s children who had made any attempt to be friendly. She deserved better than to be yelled at, regardless of his mood.

Tilda walked up to the bed and placed a hand on Legolas’ side. “Legolas?” 

Unwittingly, Tilda bumped one of his bruises, causing Legolas to flinch in shock. His eyes flew open at the unexpected pain.

Tilda stepped back with a gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Legolas smiled wanly and nodded. It was easier to let her believe she had frightened him, rather than risk any awkward questions by saying otherwise.

Tilda pointed to the side of the bed. “May I sit down?”

“Sure.” Legolas moved over to give her enough space to sit down without bumping him.

Tilda made herself comfortable, concern crossing her face as she took a closer look at Legolas. “Are you sick? You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine,” Legolas said. After a pause he added, “I’m just tired.”

Tilda reached out a hand and smiled as she ran her fingers through Legolas’ hair. “I love your hair. Do all elves have hair like yours?” Thranduil and Legolas were the only elves Tilda ever remembered seeing, and the differences between elves and humans still fascinated her.

“No, some elves have silver hair, while other elves have brown or black hair. There were a few red-haired elves once, but they haven’t been around for a while.”

“But you all grow your hair long?”

Legolas nodded.

Tilda’s smile fell away as she let go of his hair. “I’m sorry Sigrid and Bain are so nasty to you.”

“It’s all right. I get worse at school.” Legolas took hold of Tilda’s hand and smiled. “At least you are nice to me.”

Tilda smiled again and started digging in her pocket with her other hand. She pulled out a black shiny rock and held it out to Legolas. “Here, I want you have this.”

“But that’s your lucky rock!” Legolas exclaimed. “I can’t take that!”

Tilda took Legolas’ hand and wrapped his fingers around the rock. “Please take it,” she said earnestly. “I know you’re unhappy here, I think you need it more than me. When I can’t sleep, I always hold onto it and it helps me relax.”

Legolas really didn’t want to take her lucky rock from her, but he could see how much it meant to her to give it to him so he didn’t protest any further. He sat up a bit and gave her a gentle hug.

“Thank you, I will take good care of it.”

Tilda’s smile brightened. “Good.” She hopped off the bed and looked guiltily towards the door. “I better go before your Da catches me, I’ll see you later.” As she exited the room she turned and waved at Legolas. Legolas waved back.

After she had gone, Legolas looked at the rock in his hand and ran his thumb across the surface thoughtfully. The rock was shiny and black with a smooth surface. Tilda found it just before their fathers met and had rarely been parted from it since. He was surprised she had given it away, and to him of all people. He sighed and placed the rock on his bedside table, dismissing the matter.

Legolas lay back down and tried to get comfortable again. As he rearranged himself his gaze kept drifting back to the lucky rock. Feeling slightly silly, he reached over to pick the rock back up and clasped it in his fist. He settled back down on his bed and noticed he felt sleepy. Perhaps I’ll just close my eyes for a bit, he thought to himself.

Two hours later he woke up when his step-father knocked on the door and called him down to dinner.

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

Tilda gave him a cheerful smile when he sat at the table, a sharp contrast to Sigrid, Bain and even Thranduil who all ignored him. Bard gave him a thoughtful look that he wasn’t sure how to take. I’ve probably done something to upset him too, Legolas sighed to himself.

Throughout dinner, Sigrid and Bain chattered away constantly to Bard and Thranduil. Tilda was mostly quiet, but spoke up a little here and there. Legolas didn’t say a word, but then no one seemed to expect, or even want, him to speak anyway. He spent most of the meal looking away from the table, lost in his own world.

“Since everyone else contributed to cooking dinner, you can do the washing up.” Thranduil’s sharp command brought Legolas’ attention back to the table. He looked around to see everyone else had finished eating.

“I can help,” Tilda piped up.

“No Tilda. He must learn to accept his punishments,” Thranduil replied.

Bard ushered the children out of the room, but not before Bain stuck his tongue out at Legolas and laughed. Bard slapped his son lightly on the back of his head, “Out!” Thranduil followed them into the lounge room without another word to Legolas.

Legolas looked around the kitchen and sighed in resignation: it was a disaster zone. It seemed like they had used every single pot and pan in the house to purposely give him more work to do. There were food wrappers everywhere and even splatters of tomato sauce dribbling down the walls! He grabbed a plastic bag and reluctantly began to clean up.

Seemingly hours later, Legolas finally finished cleaning the kitchen well enough to meet Thranduil’s exacting standards. As he made his way back to his bedroom he paused at the lounge room door to see what the others were doing.

The girls were on the floor playing a board game with Bain sitting on a recliner near them, alternating between watching TV and egging both girls on in turn. Thranduil and Bard were talking quietly to each other, lying on the lounge, their arms and legs entwined. The way Thranduil would occasionally stroke the side of Bard’s face and run his fingers through his hair made Legolas want to gag.

Legolas turned and looked longingly at the back door. If he snuck out now, no one would notice. No one would care. They all had each other, they didn’t need him.

But where would he go? He couldn’t go to Gimli’s – the dwarf’s parents were just as critical of Legolas as Thranduil was of Gimli. The one time he had gone to Gimli’s house his father, Glóin, had taken great pleasure in showing Legolas his axe collection and all the prizes he and Gimli had won in various axe throwing competitions. He made it quite clear that both of them were quite capable of doing major damage with their axes. Legolas wasn’t stupid; he could take a hint.

Legolas turned back to the lounge room and the movement was enough to catch Thranduil’s eye.

“What are you standing there for? Have you finished cleaning the kitchen?”

Legolas nodded.

“Took you long enough. Get back to your room then.”

Legolas turned away and resignedly made his way back to his room. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

Later that night, Bard lay on the bed watching Thranduil getting ready for bed. Thranduil was still clearly annoyed by his dealings with Legolas earlier in the evening, but Bard felt he should say something now that they were alone.

“You should cut him some slack, Thranduil,” he said.

“Who?” Thranduil asked.

“Legolas.”

“What for? The way he has been behaving lately, he deserves to be permanently grounded. Your children do not behave as appallingly as he does!”

“Oh, don’t go comparing him to my kids. Besides, this whole thing is a lot harder on him than it is on my kids.”

“How is it harder on him than on them? We both lost our wives, they lost their mothers and all of us are dealing with a new family. He is going through the exact same thing as everyone else.”

“Except my kids have each other, he has no one.”

“He has me!”

“Really?” Bard raised an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you two had a civil conversation that didn’t end in yelling and the pair of you sulking!”

Thranduil opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he realised he couldn’t remember a time recently where he’d had a positive conversation with his son. Things really hadn’t been the same between him and Legolas since his wife died, and things had become worse since his re-marriage. His mouth tightened in frustration; he didn’t want to admit to Bard that he was correct. He’d never hear the end of it.

“It’s that accursed dwarf, that’s what it is! Elves and dwarves should not be cavorting about like that. It is unnatural.”

“What? Like humans and elves together? It’s not so long ago that our relationship would have been frowned upon.”

Thranduil shook his head. “No, it is not the same. Humans and elves were always allies; dwarves are just greedy little…” 

He stopped suddenly as he realised something else Bard had said. His eyes narrowed and a faint smirk graced his lips as he placed his hands on his hips. “I do **not** sulk!”

Bard laughed, amused by Thranduil’s typical, sudden change of mood. “I wondered how long it would take you to notice!”

Thranduil’s smile widened to match Bard’s. He lay down on his side next to Bard and reached a hand out. His fingers slid under Bard’s nightshirt. “I’ll show you sulking!” He leant over closer to Bard and, after their lips met, their children – and any troubles they were having – were forgotten for the rest of the night.

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

The next morning Legolas woke to the loud, repeated beeping of a truck’s reverse signal. Moments later his bedroom door slammed open and Tilda raced in.

“Legolas! Legolas! Come see. Someone’s finally moving in next door!” Tilda tugged at Legolas’ covers. She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come and look!”

Legolas smiled patiently at her. It was Saturday, the first day of school holidays, and he had intended to enjoy a sleep in, but obviously that was not to be. He got up slowly, ever conscious of his bruises. He pulled a dressing gown over his pyjamas and followed her out to the balcony that overlooked their front garden and the side of the house.

A large truck had parked in front of the neighbouring house. The truck’s back doors stood open and removalists were moving things into the house. A tall dark-haired man stood in the centre of the front lawn, directing the removalists. Legolas’ eyes widened in excitement when he realised it was not a man they were watching, but an elf. Was a family of elves moving in, Legolas wondered? It would be so good to have some other elves around.

The elf went inside and moments later an old, battered car pulled into the driveway. A dark-haired girl a few years younger than Legolas exited the passenger side. Another elf!

“She’s so pretty!” Tilda thought she spoke quietly, but she hadn’t counted on the superior hearing of an elf.

The girl looked up at the group of them before looking straight at Tilda. “Thank you very much young lady. My name is Arwen, what is yours?”

“I am Tilda,” she replied shyly.

“And that is a very pretty name!” Arwen said back.

Two more dark-haired elves got out the back of the car and stood on either side of Arwen. They were clearly twins.

“And we are…”

“…Elladan…”

“…and Elrohir.” Each twin pointed as they spoke the other’s name.

Sigrid’s eyes widened as she looked between the two boys, trying to find any differences between them. The twins saw her staring at them and they bowed at her. “My lady!” they said together. Sigrid blushed.

"This is my sister Sigrid," Tilda piped up since Sigrid seemed incapable of speech.

Bain looked at her in disgust. “More elves!” After levelling a glare at Legolas, he stormed off, no longer interested in their new neighbours.

The twins ignored him. The one who spoke second, Elrohir, winked at Sigrid, then all three elves turned as one and walked to the truck to help unload.

Legolas’ attention was drawn by the driver of the car as he opened his door. He was surprised to see the driver had a smattering of facial hair. The wind blew his hair slightly and his ears showed that he was not an elf, but a human. Something nagged at the back of Legolas’ mind with the appearance of a human, but that washed away the instant they looked at each other.

The human came and stood where the three elves had been, and he too bowed. He straightened up and looked at the group on the balcony. “I am…” he paused when his gaze fell on Legolas.

As he looked back at the human, Legolas found he couldn’t breathe. His mouth went dry and his lungs suddenly refused to work.

The human looked away and he spoke to Sigrid and Tilda instead.

“I am Aragorn,” he said, his eyes sliding straight back to Legolas. Sigrid and Tilda both said hello to Aragorn, but neither he nor Legolas noticed. Eventually the twins came over with a couple of boxes and bundled them into Aragorn’s arms.

Aragorn blinked rapidly and looked at the twins in surprise. He nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to Legolas. “I have to go. I’ll see you later?” he asked.

Legolas nodded. He couldn’t stop a stupid grin appearing on his face at the thought.

“Come on brother,” a twin said to Aragorn. “Let’s get this stuff inside.” They made their way to the front door and just as they entered the house, Legolas heard one of them speak in a low voice.

“He’s just your type. Blond and pretty.” Both twins laughed.

Aragorn pushed at them playfully. “Shut up!” They went inside and that was the last Legolas heard.

By this time, Thranduil and Bard had joined them on the balcony to see who was moving in. Legolas heard a sharp intake of breath from his father when their adult neighbour came back outside.

“Peredhel!” Thranduil muttered in disgust.

The other elf stopped instantly and looked up at them. Legolas stared at his father in shock. _This_ was Elrond Peredhel?

Legolas felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Aragorn had a very inviting smile, even for a human, and Legolas had looked forward to getting to know him better. But if this was Elrond Peredhel, that meant Aragorn was formerly known as Estel and was the human foster-child of the Peredhil clan of Imladris. Thranduil would never allow a friendship between them, much less anything more.

Legolas saw Bard place a comforting hand on Thranduil’s arm as the elf continued to glare at Elrond. Bard knew the role the Peredhil clan had played in having Thranduil’s father Oropher stripped of his kingship when the White Council decided to unite the races. Thranduil and Legolas should rightly be the King and Prince of the Mirkwood elves, not merely common elves, and for that, Thranduil had never forgiven the Peredhels.

It went deeper than that though, Legolas knew. For Thranduil blamed Elrond, and his now-estranged wife Celebrían, for the murder of his wife – of Legolas’ mother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the kudos, comments and bookmarks for the previous chapter! They make me smile. :-)

**Seven Years Earlier**

Legolas sat on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, trying not to let his tears fall. He was ten years old now and knew he was too big for crying. But as he listened to his parents yelling, even muffled by his closed bedroom door, he couldn’t stop a tear rolling down his cheek.

His parents had told him many times that they still loved each other, but he worried they would do that human thing called a Divorce, and he would never see one or both of them again. He tried so hard to be a good boy, he really did, but it still didn’t seem to be enough. They were so angry all the time.

There was an abrupt silence and moments later his mother, Amdirwen, opened the door and peered in. Her face broke at the sight of her son huddled miserably on the bed. She walked over and pulled him close as she sat down.

“It’s okay baby boy,” Amdirwen said. “We’re finished now.”

It took Legolas a few minutes to calm down but with his mother’s arms around him, things suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Although there was one small thing he had to correct: “I not a baby!”

His mother laughed softly to herself; Legolas sounded so much like his father sometimes. “I know you’re not a baby. Doesn’t mean you’re not still my baby boy though.”

Legolas frowned but let it go. It was nice to have his mother holding him and he didn’t want to be the one to make her leave. All too soon though, her phone rang and she stood up to go.

“I have to take this, it’s Mrs Peredhel,” she pointed to her phone. Amdirwen answered the call, talking to her best friend as she left the room.

Half an hour later Amdirwen came back into Legolas’ room with a backpack slung over her right shoulder. Remembering what she said earlier that she and his father were finished, Legolas misunderstood and cried out. He ran over to her, throwing his arms around her waist.

“Don’t leave! Please don’t leave me! Please, _Nana_!”

Setting the backpack on the floor, she leant over and picked him up. “Now now, we talked about this yesterday, remember? Mrs Peredhel and I are going away this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Legolas looked at her. “But you said…”

“I meant that we had finished arguing, that’s all. I’m coming back, I promise, you’ll see me tomorrow. And, if you’re a good boy, I might even bring you a present.”

Legolas grinned through his tears. “Will it be a big one?”

“Maybe. But only if you’re really, really good for your father until I come back.”

“I will be, I promise,” Legolas nodded eagerly.

“Good,” his mother replied and kissed him on the cheek.

Legolas screwed up his nose and wiped his cheek in disgust. “Ewww! I’m too big for kisses!”

“Oh really?” his mother said and kissed him on the other cheek.

“Stop it!”

“I won’t,” his mother declared with a grin and proceeded to slather kisses all over his face. Legolas tried wiping the kisses off, but he couldn’t keep up and ended up simply hiding his face behind his arms. Despite himself, he giggled helplessly as they play-fought.

Amdirwen stopped when she noticed Thranduil in the doorway watching them. She let Legolas slide down to the floor and stared back, uncertain of his mood.

“Your _friend_ has arrived,” he said eventually. “She’s sitting out the front in her car waiting for you.”

Amdirwen nodded. She didn’t bother asking Thranduil if he’d invited Celebrían inside to wait; she already knew he hadn’t. She picked up her bag and walked towards the door but he remained in the doorway, blocking her exit.

They stood looking at each other warily. Thranduil showed no inclination to move and Amdirwen found her gaze sliding down from his eyes to his lips. She remembered how they felt the first time he kissed her, how soft they were. Amdirwen closed her eyes a moment to distract herself from the memories of what had followed. She loved her husband, so very much, but he could also be the most frustrating person she had ever met.

When she opened her eyes again, Thranduil had a faint smirk on his face, almost as if he knew what she had been thinking. Thankfully, Legolas distracted them by moving impatiently beside them. Amdirwen turned towards her son and took his hands in hers.

“Now remember what I said? Be a good boy for your father, and I will bring you back a present.”

Legolas nodded enthusiastically. Amdirwen let go of one of Legolas’ hands and placed the other into Thranduil’s hand. She stood up and faced Thranduil once more.

“And you be a good boy too.”

Thranduil leant in close and whispered in her ear. “I’m always very, _very_ good.”

Amdirwen stepped back and returned his smirk. She touched Thranduil’s cheek gently. “I know you are.”

She led them out of Legolas’ room and through to the front door. As she went out the door, Legolas went to follow her, but Thranduil tightened his grip on his hand and pulled him back.

“But I want to say hello to Mrs Peredhel,” Legolas pouted.

Thranduil shook his head. “I have told you before you are not to talk to any elf from Imladris. They are all beneath you.”

“ _Nana_!” Legolas looked to his mother for support, not seeing the glare Thranduil sent her as he did so.

Amdirwen sighed to herself. She had hoped that Thranduil would try to be civil and part on friendly terms given Legolas was there but, as usual, he had to get one last dig in at the Peredhels.

Kneeling before Legolas, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe next time.”

“But _Nana_ …”

“No buts, Legolas. Remember what I said about being good for your father?”

Legolas’ mouth closed with a snap and he nodded.

Amdirwen stood up again and glared back at Thranduil. She opened her mouth but closed it again. There were many, many things she wanted to say to her arrogant husband, but not in front of Legolas. He was already too sensitive to their arguments and too likely to misinterpret anything she said. All she wanted now was to get away from the house and its oppressive atmosphere. She turned around without another word and got in the car.

After Amdirwen had left, Thranduil closed the front door and took Legolas through to the lounge room. Legolas pulled his hand out of Thranduil’s and flopped onto the sofa. He reached out a hand to the remote control but pulled his hand back at the last moment. Legolas sat up straighter as he noticed his father watching him; he didn’t want yet another lecture about posture and how he needed to look presentable at all times.

Thranduil smiled tentatively at his son. It had been a while since the two of them had spent any quality time together, just the two of them. Nowadays, he spent most of his time debating with the Council about the transfer of the newly retitled Mirkwood Estate, all while trying to save something of his father’s legacy for Legolas.

Legolas had never met Oropher, who had died two years before Legolas’ birth, and Thranduil wanted desperately to hang on to everything he could. It was the only way Legolas would ever see how much Oropher had achieved. Well, before the Council and those damned Peredhels had ruined everything anyway.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked his son.

Legolas shrugged.

“Hmm,” Thranduil mused. “Go put some shoes on then and I’ll take you somewhere special.”

Legolas grinned. “In the car?” It had been forever since his father had taken him on a car ride.

Thranduil grinned back. “Yes, in the car. Go on.” He waved Legolas out of the room. “Grab a jacket too,” Thranduil called after him.

When Legolas returned, Thranduil was relieved to see Legolas wearing decent shoes, not the tatty old runners he usually wore, and carrying a jacket coloured in traditional Mirkwood-style greens and browns, rather than the garish purple and bright blue monstrosity his mother gave him, something Thranduil suspected came from the Peredhel woman.

“Where are we going?” Legolas asked.

Thranduil winked at him. “It’s a secret! Let’s go.”

The two of them walked to the garage and got in the car. Legolas was excited to sit in the front seat for once, instead of being relegated to the back seat in favour of his mother.

After half an hour or so, Thranduil pulled into a café.

“Stay in the car, I won’t be long.”

True to his word, Thranduil was back in no time, carrying a large box which he placed on the back seat.

Legolas twisted in his seat, trying to see what was in the box. “What’s in the box _Ada_? Can I see?”

As Thranduil got back in the car and fastened his seatbelt, he handed Legolas a piece of paper. “We’re having a picnic lunch by the river.”

Legolas looked at the paper, it was a receipt for the things Thranduil had pre-ordered earlier. Legolas’ smile grew and grew as he discovered what his father had bought for their picnic. “Are we going to our secret place?”

Thranduil nodded.

Their “secret place” was located on the Celduin, a river which flowed through the eastern side of the Mirkwood Forest. There was a section of the river where the bank was wider than the rest, leaving a nice sized patch of sand to play in. It was almost as good as being at a beach according to Legolas. Being located in the forest, there were plenty of trees for a young wood elf to climb. The Mountains of Mirkwood were also nearby, giving the area an endless variety of scenery and colours.

Oropher had discovered the place when he was a teenager and throughout the years had kept the place private. Thranduil knew this would all change once the Council finished taking over Mirkwood, and he wanted to give Legolas as many memories of the place as he could.

As they got closer to their destination, Thranduil’s jaw clenched at the sight of a newly erected sign showing the distance to River Running.

Legolas spotted the sign too. “ _Ada_ , what is River Running?”

Thranduil took a deep breath, trying not to let his irritation show. “It’s the Westron name for the Celduin.”

Legolas screwed up his nose. “That’s a silly name. Why do they say it’s running, of course it’s running, it’s a river!”

Privately Thranduil agreed with him, “Celduin” was a much more noble word. Unfortunately, these name changes were just one of the many things he was obliged to endorse in this brave new world. “It’s what the humans have always called the river, and since we speak Westron now, we have to call it that too.”

“Well, I still think it’s silly!” Legolas declared before falling silent again.

Thranduil patted Legolas sympathetically on the knee and concentrated on the drive. They were nearly at the unpopulated section of the forest, and would soon be driving on dirt roads. It had been a while since their last visit, so Thranduil was wary of the road conditions. Hopefully no one had discovered their secret place in the meantime, he thought to himself.

Upon arrival they were delighted to see no one else had been there and everything was how they had left it. Thranduil gave Legolas the keys to the log cabin that Oropher had built, while he grabbed the box of supplies. Legolas ran and unlocked the door. By the time Thranduil had shut the car and gone inside, Legolas had all the curtains and windows open, letting a fresh breeze flow through the cabin.

Legolas ran out the door again. “ _Ada_ , can I go swimming now?”

Thranduil came to the doorway to see Legolas was already stripping off his clothes as he ran towards the water. “Sure,” he said to himself with a wry smile. “Go ahead.”

Legolas had removed the last of his clothing and appeared to be about to jump straight in when Thranduil called out to him.

“Don’t forget to…”

“I know!” Legolas interrupted. “Check there’s no strong current. Make sure there’s no big rocks or anything sharp on the bottom. I know _Ada_ , I know!”

Thranduil’s smile widened. “OK then.” He stood and watched Legolas splash about for a bit before going back inside, leaving the door open so he could hear his son if he needed anything. After sorting out his purchases and getting food ready for lunch, Thranduil grabbed a towel from the cupboard and went outside.

Just outside the door was one of Legolas’ shoes. Thranduil picked it up and cast about for the other one. He found it in a bush a couple of metres away, Legolas having kicked it off indiscriminately as he ran. Thranduil continued down to the river, picking up Legolas’ clothes as he went. When he got to the river bank, he hung the towel over a low-hanging branch and watched Legolas play.

“Are you coming in too _Ada_?” Legolas eventually asked.

Thranduil hesitated. He hadn’t brought his swimwear with him, and even though he hadn’t thought twice about swimming naked in Legolas' younger years, now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Pleeeeeeeeease!”

Nodding, Thranduil held up the pile of clothes in his hand. “I’ll just put these inside first.” Thranduil came back, wearing only his boxers and carrying a second towel, and waded over. Legolas appeared to have grown bored with playing and was floating calmly on his back instead, gazing up into the branches of the trees above him.

Legolas turned his head when Thranduil took hold of his ankle. “What are you doing?”

Thranduil gestured to the clearing where they entered the river. “You were floating away.”

Legolas looked at the clearing and realised he had indeed floated a way downstream. He watched the branches above him sway in the breeze as his father gently towed him back to shore. “I’m listening to the trees,” he announced.

Thranduil smiled indulgently. “What do they tell you?”

When Legolas was younger, Thranduil would tell him stories of the ancient elves and of how it was believed they could talk to the trees. Legolas had been fascinated by these stories, and nearly every time they were in the forest he would pretend he could understand what the trees said to him.

Legolas stayed silent a moment, a slightly confused expression crossing his face. “They are sad.” Legolas paused a moment longer. “It’s like everything is ending, and they don’t know why,” he added before lapsing into silence.

Thranduil watched his son thoughtfully. Legolas always did have a close connection with the forest and the trees, and for a long time Thranduil had been concerned Legolas truly believed it when he said he could talk to the trees. Amdirwen had dismissed his fears, saying Legolas was simply “going through a phase”. And indeed, the last time they came, Legolas mentioned nothing about talking to or listening to the trees. This time however, he seemed to have regressed back to his younger childhood habits.

Thranduil took a deep breath; he wondered if this was Legolas’ way of expressing his own fears about the changes happening in their lives. He paused a moment but decided not to say anything. Thranduil knew he and his wife hadn't made things easy for Legolas, with their constant arguments and the ongoing tension in the house. If his son needed an outlet to express himself, he wouldn’t restrict him.

The silence was shattered when Legolas’ stomach grumbled loudly. Legolas giggled in embarrassment at his father's gasp of mock surprise.

“I think that’s a hint it’s lunch time,” Thranduil said.

Getting out of the water, they wrapped the towels around themselves and raced each other back to the cabin with Thranduil letting Legolas win. Thranduil had already prepared most of the food, so they just needed to carry everything outside and set up the picnic.

As they settled on the blanket and started to eat, Legolas began chattering excitedly about everything he could think of. Thranduil listened indulgently, happy to spend some tension-free time with a family member.

They spent many hours more by the river, talking (or listening in Thranduil's case), playing and swimming. As the sun began to go down, Thranduil reluctantly stirred himself and started packing. He went back into the cabin and started clearing out the contents of the cupboards the family left there in between visits.

Legolas wandered in and watched what he was doing. "Why are you emptying out the cupboards, _Ada_?"

Thranduil paused, considering what he would say. "I need to clear out all of our belongings, just in case we don't come back."

"Why wouldn't we be coming back?"

"This cabin is part of the Mirkwood Estate, so when we leave our house, we will have to leave the cabin behind as well."

Legolas' eyes filled with tears. "But I don't want to leave it behind! It's ours, not the Council's! Why are they taking everything from us?"

Thranduil pulled Legolas close and hugged him tight. "I know, I don't want to leave it for them either, but I don't have a choice." He rubbed his hand up and down his son's back, silently cursing the White Council anew for tearing his family's life apart.

Legolas pulled away, turned his face away from Thranduil and wiped his face. He muttered something under his breath about something not being fair, but Thranduil knew better than to say anything. Legolas needed to work through his feelings, and pushing him would not achieve anything.

After they packed everything, Thranduil sent Legolas off for one last wander around while he loaded the car.

Thranduil stood in the doorway of the cabin and gazed around, soon lost in memory. He first came to the cabin as a child with his parents, and later as he grew he had brought Amdirwen. Looking into the living area, he remembered kneeling on the floor to propose, and the look of joy on Amdirwen’s face as she accepted. Later, after they married, they kept coming back and Thranduil knew in his heart that Legolas had been conceived in the cabin. Legolas in turn, had always felt at home there, and Thranduil understood only too well how upsetting losing this place was to him.

Thranduil gave a deep sigh and took the keys out of his pocket. With a final glance around the cabin, he switched the lights off, locked the door and turned to search for his son. He found him in the branches of one of the trees by the river.

"You coming up, _Ada_?" Legolas called down.

Thranduil looked up into the tree and saw his son smiling down at him. It was a relief to see the smile back on his face. Thranduil hadn't climbed a tree for years and his ascent felt, and no doubt looked, exceedingly inelegant. Legolas didn't care and moved over on his branch to make room and, as Thranduil settled on the branch, he snuggled into his side. Thranduil wrapped an arm around him and they both watched the last of the sunset.

As the dark set in, Thranduil started the climb back down. “Be careful,” he called back up to Legolas as he started descending after him.

Once on the ground, Legolas turned back to gaze up at the tree. It was the first tree he ever climbed and was his favourite. He had told many secrets to this tree and the thought of never seeing it again was devastating. “Goodbye tree!” he called softly.

Thranduil frowned – it seemed like the tree had responded, as its branches appeared to sway in the breeze more than they were already doing. “Come, Legolas, it’s time for dinner.”

Legolas followed slowly, saying goodbye to everything as he walked past, the other trees, the bushes, the river, the cabin and even the patch of dirt where they parked the car. As he approached the car, tears threatened again and he hurriedly got in the car, slamming the door behind him.

“What do you want to eat?” Thranduil asked, deliberately ignoring the slammed door.

Legolas took a long time to reply. “Can we go to Galion’s?”

Thranduil smiled brightly. “Sounds like a good idea.” He started the car and they headed off.

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

To outsiders, Galion’s Restaurant appeared to be an old-fashioned restaurant. To its patrons, it represented a touch of home, a touch of the rapidly disappearing Mirkwood.

Legolas loved going there because the staff made his family feel so welcome every time they went. The staff addressed his parents as “my Lord” and “my Lady” and called Legolas “their little prince”. The family had a table permanently reserved for them, so they never needed to make a booking. Best of all, according to Legolas, their table had special chairs decorated with huge antlers that he thought made the chairs look like thrones.

Once inside, Legolas was delighted to see that Himelnith was working that night. That meant her son Feren would be about too. Feren was about Legolas’ age and they had spent many nights playing together while the adults talked about boring grown up stuff.

“Just the two of you tonight, my Lord?” Himelnith asked as she escorted them to their table.

“Yes, it is. Amdirwen is having a weekend away with one of her… friends,” he replied, the slight pause in his sentence making it obvious who she was with.

Himelnith suppressed a frown, knowing that Legolas was watching and listening. None of Thranduil’s friends understood why Amdirwen continued to associate with Celebrían Peredhel, given her husband’s actions in the Council. As far as the restaurant staff were concerned, Oropher had been their king until his death, and now that he was gone, the role belonged to Thranduil. They refused to treat him as anything less.

“Excuse me, is Feren here?” Legolas asked her eagerly.

Himelnith smiled at him and nodded.

“Has he eaten yet?” Thranduil asked.

“No, not yet.”

“Then tell him he is invited to dine with us tonight.”

Himelnith bowed. “Thank you my Lord, that is very gracious of you.”

“No, not at all.” Thranduil knew the restaurant always discounted their bill, so it all worked out even in the end. He also knew Himelnith's family had been struggling since the changes wrought by the Council left her husband unemployed, and he wanted to do something, no matter how small, to ease their burden.

Feren and Legolas were thrilled to be together and there seemed to be more talking, laughing and yelling than eating. No one at the surrounding tables seemed to mind the noise though, so Thranduil let them be. Once they moved out of Mirkwood, it could well be a long time before the children saw each other again, so Thranduil was content to let them enjoy themselves.

Thranduil was not left out altogether. As he sat there, many people drifted over to the table to talk to him; people who, in another life, would have been the King’s advisors and generals. They all wanted updates on the Council’s actions and commiserated with him on everything the family was being forced to give up. There was good news too, as people had married, babies had been born and children had grown up and were making something of themselves.

At one point Thranduil leant back in his chair, letting the hustle and bustle of the restaurant wash over him while he watched the staff and other patrons. Although he had never formally been king, he felt protective towards them all. Despite what the Council said, these were still his people and he wanted the best for them. A smile came to his face for he was proud of them as well. It was not only his family’s life being torn apart, but his people’s lives too, and they were all doing their best to adapt to the new world.

This restaurant reflected that disruption – once there had been many such Mirkwood restaurants around, now, this was the last of its kind and once the Council finished its takeover of the area, it would most likely disappear too. Despite this, Galion, the owner of the restaurant and Oropher’s former butler, never let himself get worn down. If the restaurant closed, he would simply retire and live out his days somewhere far away.

As Thranduil’s gaze continued to wander, he noticed a family of humans sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. He watched them for a while, curious about why they chose this particular venue. The restaurant was not in an area normally frequented by humans. There were two adults and three children, two looked to be a few years younger than Legolas and the third was just a baby; she could barely have been a year old. The family looked extremely happy with a lot of laughing and care being shown to each other.

Yet there was sadness there too: he could clearly see the advanced stages of some illness in the mother, and the father would occasionally stop to stare wistfully at his wife. Thranduil wasn’t sure but assumed it was cancer or one of those other fatal diseases that mostly seemed to affect humans.

His attention was drawn back to his own table as the first of the desserts was served. There was a blessed silence as the boys got stuck into their desserts, scoffing them down so quickly one would think they hadn’t eaten in months.

Galion came out and joined Thranduil at the table when the last of the desserts had been brought out, and the two of them reminisced about old times. After the restaurant officially closed, Himelnith joined them too. A series of yawns from Legolas and Feren drew smiles from the adults and Thranduil excused himself saying he should get Legolas home.

As they left the restaurant, Thranduil saw the human family were the only other people still there. He inadvertently caught the gaze of the husband as they walked past the humans’ table. Thranduil frowned. The man’s face looked familiar for some reason. He searched his memory but couldn’t think of who the man was. Thranduil shrugged and concentrated on getting his sleepy son home.

Legolas went to bed that night feeling happy and content. He’d had a great day with his father, and the next day promised to be just as great. The next morning, he got up early, knowing his mother would come home later with a big present for him. Thranduil took him out again for the morning and they returned after lunch. Legolas entertained himself in the lounge room so he could be there when his mother returned. As he waited, he thought to himself it had been one of the best weekends ever.

That was at least until the police turned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will probably be every 2-3 weeks...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that we're on the same page: Elladan and Elrohir are about 21-23, Legolas and Arwen are 17, Aragorn and Gimli are 16, Bain is 14, Sigrid is 13 and Tilda is 8.
> 
> Also, with the Elves not being immortal, Valinor is just another location in Middle Earth.

From the balcony, Thranduil glared at their new neighbour so intensely and for so long that Legolas grew uneasy. Even Tilda and Sigrid appeared concerned. Legolas had just stretched out a hand towards his father when Elrond spoke.

“Legolas? Is that you? You have grown so much!”

Legolas looked around in confusion. As far as he knew, he had never seen Elrond Peredhel before.

“You met him once when your mother took you to the hospital where they worked,” Thranduil said stiffly, in response to Legolas’ unasked question.

Legolas took a closer look at Elrond. The Peredhil elf looked younger than Legolas expected, and his voice sounded deep and calming. He didn’t seem anything like the demented, tyrannical elf Thranduil portrayed him as. Elrond stared hopefully back at Legolas, his eyes pleading Legolas to accept his words as an olive branch, and not to reject him how Thranduil would.

Legolas felt his heart sink. Friendship with the Peredhel family could mean a friendship with Aragorn which despite only one brief interaction was something he desperately wanted. However, he was his father’s son, and no matter how strained things were between them, he knew where his loyalties had to lie. He turned his back on Elrond – and possibly Aragorn – and returned to his room.

Sitting on his bed, he could hear his father’s angry voice, the deep tones of Elrond’s voice and an occasional interjection from Bard, but not their words. It didn’t matter though since just after they stopped, someone knocked on his door and Tilda and Sigrid entered the room.

Sigrid looked around curiously; this was the first time she had been in Legolas’ room since the families moved in together. Her gaze stopped on a framed picture of a female elf on Legolas’ bedside table.

“Is this your mother?” she asked.

Legolas nodded.

“She looks beautiful.”

Legolas smiled uncertainly, wary of Sigrid suddenly being civil to him. “Thank you.”

Tilda sat down on the bed next to him, eager to tell him everything. Between them, the girls described what happened after Legolas left.

Elrond – or Mr Peredhel as they called him, not knowing he was a healer – had apparently invited everyone over that night for a barbecue. He said it would be a good opportunity for the two families to get acquainted and, in Thranduil’s case, a chance for a fresh start.

Thranduil had responded immediately, using words that both Sigrid and Tilda found too embarrassing to repeat. He said no one from his family would ever set foot on Elrond’s property, and Elrond’s family was to stay well away from them. That apparently was when their Da intervened. Following a heated discussion between the two, Thranduil conceded Bard and his children could do as they wished, however Thranduil and Legolas would go nowhere near them. After that, Thranduil left the balcony with an apologetic Bard following soon after.

Legolas sighed. Of course he was the only one not allowed to go! “Are you going to go then?” he asked the girls.

Sigrid blushed immediately.

“We want to,” Tilda answered for her. “Although I don’t know if Bain will go.” She glanced at her older sister and gave a wicked grin. “Sigrid’s in love!”

“W-what? No! I am not!” Sigrid spluttered, going even redder.

Tilda giggled at her reaction. “I saw the way you looked at the twins. You like them!”

Sigrid looked downwards, too embarrassed to face either Legolas or her sister. Eventually she looked up shyly at Legolas. “You know the family. Is there anything you can tell me about them?” She pictured Elrohir’s cheeky wink in her head and compulsively smiled.

Legolas hid a smirk – so that’s what had brought Sigrid to his room. He took a breath, trying to think of something interesting to tell her. “How about that they’re part human?”

“Human? No way!” Sigrid exclaimed. “They look like elves, not humans.”

Legolas nodded. “Dr Peredhel is half-human, which makes them part human.”

“What about their Ma, is she an elf, where is she?” Sigrid gushed the questions out in one long breath.

Where was she indeed, Legolas thought to himself. His gaze shifted to the photo of his mother. Thinking of Mrs Peredhel took his memories back to The Day The Police Came…

ooo000OOO000ooo

**Seven Years Earlier**

Legolas knelt on the lounge looking out the front window waiting for Mrs Peredhel’s car to come up the driveway. His father had been in his office catching up with paperwork most of the afternoon, so there was no one to tell him off for not sitting correctly. To get a better view, he leant against the back of the lounge, rather than sitting down. The tops of his feet beat out a repetitive rhythm on the seat as he stared out the window.

As time passed, his enthusiasm dipped. It seemed he had been waiting for hours – _Why isn’t Nana home yet?_ – and his head started to droop a little, his feet only moving every so often.

Each time a car came near their gate, his head would shoot up hopefully as he looked for Mrs Peredhel’s car. He caught his breath when, finally, a car turned onto their driveway. His brow furrowed when he realised it was a police car and not the car for which he was waiting.

With a look of confusion crossing his face, Legolas turned to the doorway of the hallway that led to his father’s office, but decided not to say anything. Looking back to the window, he saw two police officers get out of the car. His eyes widened when he saw one of them holding his mother’s backpack. He tilted his head to get a better view of the back doors of the car, expecting to find his mother. When he realised there was no one else in the car, he turned away from the window again.

“ADA!”

Thranduil ran out of his office, alarmed by Legolas’ tone of voice, and the first thing he saw was Legolas kneeling on the lounge. He opened his mouth to reprimand him but stopped at a knock on the door. Legolas looked at him meaningfully. Thranduil turned away from Legolas and opened the door.

Two police officers stood there; one a male human, the other a female elf. Thranduil saw straight away what the man was holding. He looked back at Legolas, his face going pale.

“Thranduil Oropherion?” the human asked.

Thranduil nodded.

“We need to speak to you. May we come in?”

“Of course.” Thranduil ushered them through the door.

The police officers stood in the lounge room and both of them looked over at Legolas. The female elf police officer walked to Legolas and smiled. “What is your name, young man?”

Legolas looked questioningly at his father who nodded. He climbed off the lounge, stood in front of her and extended his hand, introducing himself how Thranduil had taught him.

“My name is Legolas Thranduilion,” he told her.

“Well met Legolas, my name is Elenwë,” she replied, shaking his hand. She smiled at Legolas again then turned expectantly to her partner.

“Mr Oropherion, is there somewhere we can talk?” the man responded with a pointed glance.

Thranduil took a deep breath and directed the officer to his office. He came to an abrupt halt when Legolas followed them.

The female officer spoke, having spied a pile of Legolas' toys in the corner. “Legolas?” She waited until Legolas turned to her before continuing, pointing at the toys. “Can you show me what you are making?”

Legolas glanced back at his father who gave him a reassuring smile. Thranduil and the other police officer waited until Legolas and Elenwë had settled down to play before leaving the room.

His father and the police officer stayed in the office for ages and when they came back to the lounge room, the human was no longer carrying his mother’s backpack. His father seemed to have been crying. Legolas ignored what the lady was saying and ran over to him.

“Ada, why did that man have Naneth’s bag?” he asked in Sindarin. He knew he wasn’t supposed to interrupt when adults were talking, but he had to know.

“Legolas!” his father snapped. “Speak Westron when we have company present!”

Elenwë came over to Legolas and ushered him back to the lounge. 

Legolas was close to tears, everything was so strange! He had never seen his father like this: his eyes reddened, his shoulders slumped. He even looked smaller somehow.

“Legolas, we are leaving now but your father needs to tell you something important,” the officer said. “You need to be very brave and listen carefully to everything he is going to tell you. Okay?”

Legolas nodded but didn’t look at her or the other one. His eyes were fixed firmly on his father.

He watched his father let the officers out, reply solemnly to their parting words and come back to Legolas. As his father knelt on the floor in front of him, he saw a chilling expression on his face.

Legolas became really scared.

Thranduil opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say anything. He looked down at the ground, his eyes welling with tears.

“Ada? What’s happening?” Legolas asked.

When Thranduil finally managed to speak, Legolas shook his head wildly in denial. _No! That can’t be true!_

He vaguely heard his father talk about Dr Peredhel turning up, and lots of cars, and Mrs Peredhel not stopping in time, and his mother being hurt, and ambulances not getting there soon enough, and Mrs Peredhel being in hospital, and, and… 

Legolas stood and tried to push his father away. “No, Ada, no!” he practically whined before letting his anger through. “Stop saying that! Why are you being so mean? You’re always being mean to Naneth!”

Thranduil placed his hands on Legolas’ shoulders and lowered him firmly but gently back down. He took a breath and tried again.

“Legolas, I’m not being mean. Your mother…”

Legolas covered his ears in an attempt to drown out his father’s voice, frantically murmuring “no, no, no” over and over again. His mother had promised him she was coming back! His mother was going to bring him a present! She couldn’t not come back! Tomorrow they were going shopping for new archery stuff for him. They were going to do so many things. She _promised_!

In a sudden burst of energy, Legolas pushed past his father and ran to his bedroom. His mother was coming back – she wouldn’t leave him, no matter what his father said – so he would wait for her in his room, away from Ada, away from those mean words. He ignored his father calling out to him.

Legolas stood in the doorway, shifting impatiently from one foot to another. He itched to do something, but now he was here he didn’t know what.

He looked at his dirty clothes scattered across the floor. Nana was always pestering him to tidy up his room. Perhaps if he cleaned up, she would come home sooner. Legolas took several goes to pick up the clothes as some of the smaller items kept falling through his arms. As he walked towards the clothes basket, some socks fell to the floor again. He dumped the clothes he was holding into the basket and went back for the fallen items. He picked them up and impatiently threw them at the basket. One of the socks missed. Legolas muttered angrily to himself, snatched it up and slammed it down on the top of the other clothes.

He looked around and saw his bed was still unmade. His mother would want him to make his bed, just like a good boy. He walked over and pulled up the bed covers. Still angry with his father, and upset from the socks not going in the basket, Legolas yanked on the covers with too much force and pulled them up too far. Looking to his right, he saw the bottom of his mattress was showing and he cried out in frustration. He stormed to the end of his bed to pull the covers back down but stubbed his toes on a toy lying on the floor.

Nearing the end of his patience, he kicked the toy out of the way, only to hurt his toes even more. Everything became too much for him and he lost his temper completely. He picked the offending toy up and threw it at the other side of his room. He grabbed his bed covers and dragged them onto the floor, stomping on them for good measure. Turning to his other toys, he picked them up and tossed them towards the same corner as the first toy.

The sound of something breaking stopped him for a moment and he looked up, expecting his father to tell him off for making so much noise. Thranduil had told him off so many times for making noise when he was playing with his toys that it caused yet another argument between his parents.

His mother had argued that as Legolas was transferring to a human school, he needed to learn to play like a human child to be able to interact with them easier. Thranduil insisted toys were simply an indulgence, and his son did not require such things. His mother won the argument, as she did most of the ones relating to Legolas, but it never altered his father’s disdain for him playing like a human child.

Legolas looked towards the door and nearly felt disappointed when no one was there. He picked up another toy, one that would make a loud noise when it hit the floor, and deliberately threw it as hard as he could. He looked at the door again; still no Ada. Suddenly angry again, he picked up another toy and threw it onto the growing pile in the corner.

On and on he went, throwing anything he could until his arms were so tired he could barely lift them. With one final scream of frustration, he threw himself across the bed and sobbed for his mother until he finally, mercifully, fell asleep…

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

“Legolas?”

Legolas snapped out of his recollections as Tilda called his name. He realised tears had formed in his eyes and he hastily wiped them away. He glanced quickly at Sigrid, expecting to see her mocking him, but surprisingly found a sympathetic expression on her face. Legolas looked at Amdirwen’s picture again and sighed.

He’d heard later that Mrs Peredhel returned to the hospital and stayed in a special ward for a long time. Not because she was hurt in the accident, but due to depression. She hadn’t coped with the loss of her friend and refused to take care of herself or the children. Her husband tried everything he could but she wouldn’t respond to him, she wouldn’t even look at him.

Their daughter was too young to understand what was happening and had started to act out. Elladan and Elrohir had their own anger management issues coping with the changes in their mother, but at least they had each other to keep themselves sane. Elrond realised he had been spending too much time trying to help Celebrían and not enough with Arwen. He sent her to stay with Celebrían’s parents for a while, his own parents being long gone. No one talked about the human foster child, so Legolas knew nothing of him or how he dealt with the situation.

Then one day, Elrond arrived at the hospital to find Celebrían gone. She had forged Elrond’s signature on some documents, had herself discharged from the hospital and just disappeared. No one ever found out where she went.

“Yes, she is an elf, but she left a long time ago. I’m not really sure where she is,” Legolas finally replied.

A phone rang somewhere in the house and the three of them turned to listen. Bain had "borrowed" his father’s mobile phone and changed its ringtone to match the house phone so many times that Bard had given up changing it back. Now when the phone rang, no one ever knew if it was Bard’s phone or not. When no one called for them, they resumed their conversation.

“Have you met Elrohir and Elladan? What are they like?” Sigrid finally asked what she truly wanted to know.

Legolas thought about appearing to think about it and leaving her in suspense for a few minutes, but decided not to. He shook his head. “No, I haven’t met them so I don’t really know anything.” He paused a moment. “Elladan is the older one though.”

Sigrid smiled, happy with any information she could get. She thought of Elrohir’s wink again. He was a middle child, just like her.

Someone knocked at the door and when no one entered, Legolas called out “Come in” with a puzzled look on his face. Bain would never come to his room, his father would barge straight in without knocking, and Tilda was already there.

Bard opened the door and stood in the doorway looking at them all with a vague smile on his face. He held his phone in his hand.

“Legolas, that was the Club. I have to go in early to take some extra junior classes, so if you want a lift this early, you’ll need to be ready in half an hour.”

“Okay, thanks,” Legolas replied and stood up to get his things ready.

Bard looked at his daughters and gestured. “Come on you two, give him some privacy.”

Tilda looked at Legolas, standing there, already prepared for his shower and jumped off his bed. “See ya Legolas!” She left the room.

Sigrid followed straight after her. She looked back at Legolas but said nothing as she left.

Bard watched her go. “Everything okay? Was she giving you a hard time?” he asked Legolas.

Legolas shook his head. “No, she was just after some information on the twins and thought I would know something.”

Bard watched him a moment longer before nodding. “All right then, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll meet you at the car.” He closed the door behind him as he left.

Once he was alone, Legolas wasted no time getting ready. When the families first moved in together, Bain often teased Legolas about his hair. He said Legolas was so fussy about his hair that he took longer to get dressed than both girls put together. As if to spite him, Legolas usually ended up being the quickest of all of them to get ready. Years of braiding his hair had left Legolas so proficient at it that he could style it with his eyes shut.

Bard smirked when he got to the car and saw Legolas already waiting. He dumped his stuff in the car on top of Legolas’, got in the car and inserted the keys into the ignition.

Instead of starting the car, he turned to Legolas. “Did you say goodbye to your father?”

Legolas stared straight in front of him, keeping his expression neutral. “No.”

Bard nodded, not at all surprised. “I think you should. He’s a bit out of sorts at the moment. He’d appreciate it if you went and spoke to him.”

Legolas scoffed and shook his head. “He’s always ‘out of sorts’ with me. He wouldn’t care if I’m here or not.”

“That’s not true, Legolas. He cares very much about you,” Bard replied.

Legolas folded his arms across his chest and prepared to not say another word. Bard sighed in frustration. He verged on commenting on the stubbornness of elves, but knew it would not achieve anything. He didn’t know who was worse, Thranduil or Legolas. Thranduil, he supposed, since he was old enough to know better.

“I want you to go and speak to him,” Bard eventually said.

Legolas looked at him, irritation creeping in. Who was Bard to tell him what to do? He’d never bossed Legolas around before; there was no need to, not when his father was so good at it.

In response, Bard took the keys out of the ignition. “I’ll wait here while you talk to him.”

Legolas glanced at the back seat of the car, considering grabbing his stuff and walking to the club instead. Anything to get away from this conversation. Unfortunately, he would have to move Bard’s gear first, which prevented a quick getaway.

“Fine,” he muttered. He got out of the car, nearly slamming the door behind him, and headed to the master bedroom.

When he got to their room, he stopped in dismay, a chill running through him. His father was seated on the end of the bed, turning Amdirwen’s wedding ring over and over. The blank, dull and lifeless look on his face was one Legolas had grown very familiar with over the months following his mother’s death. It meant Thranduil was once more lost in grief, and no one could get through to him. Not even Legolas.

 _Especially_ not Legolas.

Despite Legolas’ annoyance with Bard for sending him here, Legolas felt a flush of anger on his behalf. His father was supposed to have moved on. He had remarried, found himself a new family, he was even sitting on the bed he shared with his new husband. What gave him the right to be lost in his grief for Amdirwen again?

After crying himself to sleep That Day, Legolas had slept so long it was dark when he awoke. He couldn’t hear anything from his father. Entering the hallway, Legolas was about to go to his father’s office, when he noticed Thranduil was still in the lounge room. In fact, he was kneeling in same place where Legolas left him. The deadness in his face made Legolas wonder if his father had even noticed he was gone.

It wasn’t until Himelnith turned up with Feren three days later that Legolas even got a home-cooked meal. Legolas had been feeding himself on sandwiches and whatever he could scrounge from the fridge and pantry. The kitchen was full of dirty dishes. Legolas had obviously made an attempt at cleaning up, but Himelnith rewashed all the dishes anyway and helped him put everything away.

When she saw the state of Legolas’ room, he hung his head in shame. Himelnith went over to him and told him it was all right. She had only intended to kiss him on the top of his head but, as she drew closer, he practically melted into her. She hugged him back, realising no one had comforted him at all. Feren came up behind him and joined the hug, surrounding Legolas on both sides.

Eventually they pulled apart and Himelnith started on Legolas’ room. Since his meltdown he had been sleeping on a sheet with a blanket and pillow that he’d picked back off the floor. After she made his bed, Himelnith sat him on the bed and told him to rest. Recognising Legolas wasn’t in the mood to talk, Feren sat next to him and simply held his hand.

When the room was back in order, Himelnith walked over to the boys. Lifting Legolas’ face by the chin, she saw how tired he was. Bags had developed under his eyes and his skin looked grey. There was no sign of the happy, smiling elfling he usually was.

Himelnith frowned. She wanted to take Legolas home with them so he would be taken care of properly while Thranduil got himself back on track, but unfortunately that would only make things worse. Her husband had found a new job at last, but it meant moving to Rohan. They had already started packing, and Himelnith knew it was not the time to tell Legolas that Feren was leaving.

Steeling herself, she went to Thranduil’s room, where he had been holed up since he left the lounge room, and banged on the door. Despite the lack of reply, she entered the room.

From his room, Legolas and Feren listened as Himelnith spoke to Thranduil. At one point the boys looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“Your Naneth just swore at Ada!” Legolas was both horrified and gleeful.

Feren could not stop a giggle escaping. His mother telling their Lord off? He could not wait to tell his own Ada.

Himelnith returned to see both boys staring up at her in open-mouthed shock. “That’s enough you two,” she said with a touch of a grin. She was surprised at herself too, but it was worth it to see a hint of colour in Legolas’ face again.

Himelnith and Feren left soon after, leaving Legolas alone with Thranduil again. It took a few more days before Thranduil left his room on a regular basis. Despite the telling off by Himelnith, he still did not spend time with Legolas. Instead, he began investigating the accident, coming up with many theories as to what actually happened. His investigations gradually took up more and more of his energy.

In time, Legolas began to feel he had lost both of his parents that weekend. Thranduil was so caught up in his grief and his investigations that he failed to see how Legolas was struggling. Amdirwen’s death drove a wedge between them, one that was still there seven years later.

“Ada?” Legolas knew his father would not respond, but Bard had told him to speak to Thranduil, so that’s what he did. Even if it was just the one word.

When, as expected, Thranduil did not reply, Legolas turned around and went back to the car.

Bard looked at him as he got in. “Did you speak to him?”

“Yes.”

Bard raised an eyebrow. “What did he say?”

“Not much.”

Bard gave a wry smile; like father, like son. He sighed, not entirely convinced, but short of accusing Legolas of lying, there was nothing more he could do. He started the car and they headed off to the Club.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gimli!

The White City Cultural Education Club was one of many new outdoor facilities set up across Middle Earth to address the disenchantment felt by non-human students.

All schools surviving the White Council’s reforms were realigned to the human system of education: a curriculum built around economics, politics and the sciences. Physical education, while still included, very much took a back seat to other subjects.

For human students, there were no problems as there was no change to their learning.

However, the elves and dwarves, and to a lesser extent the hobbits, were accustomed to subjects like archery, axe craft, swordsmanship and a nature-based education. The absence of these subjects caused a great deal of unrest within the Elf and Dwarf communities, who were already concerned their culture was being overlooked in favour of human culture. The complete change became too much for some students, who felt increasingly feeling alienated from their past.

As a compromise, the non-human races were eventually given the option to be excused from the schools’ physical education classes, as long as they attended the Cultural Education Clubs after school and on the weekends.

At first, there was some concern the long hours on top of regular school hours would place too much pressure on the students. It soon became obvious that the opposite was the case and the students thrived at the clubs. Being able to attend classes that mostly consisted of their own race, and were away from human students, let them relax in a way they couldn’t at school.

The popularity of the clubs eventually came to the attention of the human members of the White Council. Complaints were made using the line that now that the races were united, there should not be clubs that humans could not attend. Surely, if elves, dwarves and hobbits had the option of attending these clubs, then shouldn’t humans have the same option, they argued.

The White Council agreed and the clubs were opened to all races. Bit by bit, human students began attending the clubs, eventually outnumbering the other races. To cater for the new students, human instructors were recruited and Bard Bowman became the first human hired as an archery instructor.

ooo000OOO000ooo

As they arrived at the club long before his own classes started, Legolas helped Bard set up the target range for the junior classes that Bard was to teach.

It was widely acknowledged throughout the club that Legolas was the most skilled archer they had ever had and that he really didn’t need lessons. In fact, it was said he could even teach the other instructors a thing or two. School regulations being what they were though meant he was still compelled to take classes. Thankfully the club was willing to compromise. As long as he continued to attend the club, and for the right length of time, he was given free range to do what he wanted.

During his scheduled lesson times he was almost always on the advanced ranges, shooting alone. When he practised, it was guaranteed a crowd of spectators would watch. Prior to humans being admitted to the club, Legolas was not bothered by people watching him, whether it was just one or two people or a larger crowd. Once he started practising, his concentration would focus solely on archery, and his mind would shut everything else out. It was the only time he felt at peace. After humans also started attending, there were occasions when they would heckle him, but these were rare occurrences, and mostly confined to students of his own school.

After he finished helping Bard, Legolas walked over to the advanced range to begin practising early. He shot arrow after arrow, his concentration so intense that he phased out the murmurs of the crowd gathering behind him.

It wasn’t until he heard the unmistakable thumping of a group of Dwarves walking in front of the stands behind him that he paused. He turned his head slightly but kept his bow aimed at the target. He waited patiently for the taunt he knew would come.

“Hey laddie!” a voice called out. “Bet ya can’t hit the centre of the target forty times in a row!”

Legolas turned his head to face the dwarf fully. “Do you sleep with the light on at night, or do you get a stool to reach the light switch?” he said, suppressing a grin and letting go of the arrow he already had nocked. The oohs from the crowd let him know he hit the target perfectly.

The dwarf looked steadily at the elf for a long moment, the other dwarves standing motionlessly behind him, waiting for his response. A sudden burst of laughter from the dwarf saw the others relax. They started moving again, knowing Gimli would catch up soon enough. None of them shared Gimli’s friendship with the elf, although most of them understood why the friendship existed. Kili, a distant cousin of Gimli, was the only one among them who acknowledged Legolas, with a small nod of his head, as he walked off.

Kili was a keen archer who, once he got over the fact that Legolas was fifteen years younger than him and an elf, a Mirkwood elf at that, had a training session with Legolas many weeks ago. Still not quite believing an elf would be able to teach him anything he didn’t know, he stubbornly brought his bow with the highest draw weight. He was convinced the slender, fragile-looking elf would not be able to handle the bow and he would return home not having learnt a thing. To his surprise, Legolas picked up the bow and drew it as easily as a toy bow. He didn’t even look like it took any effort to draw the bow back its full length! After a long and rewarding session, Kili developed many new techniques and improved some existing ones, and while they would never be close friends, there was a definite respect between the two.

Gimli came up closer to Legolas. “Are you hanging around after practice?”

Legolas nodded. “I’m staying here as long as I can.” His mouth tightened as he thought back to the previous night. “My father sent me to my room last night, as if I was a little child. And then this morning…” Legolas’ voice trailed off as he thought of his father sitting on the end of his bed, non-responsive and thinking of his dead wife.

“And then?” Gimli prompted, once it became clear Legolas was not going to speak again.

Legolas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” He looked at the group of dwarves heading towards the axe craft area. “You go on, I’ll come over after I’m done.”

Gimli slapped him on the back, frowning as Legolas flinched. “I’ll see ya later then laddie.” He watched as Legolas turned back to the target and began shooting again. Gimli reckoned the elf had already forgotten he was ever there.

ooo000OOO000ooo

The day Legolas started at their school, Gimli thought they would be enemies for life.

Classes had just started for the day and Gimli had his head down, taking notes in his schoolbook when a murmur went through the class. He looked up to see the headmaster standing in the doorway with a blond elf beside him.

“Your new student,” the headmaster said to their teacher, Miss Landers. The headmaster handed a file over to the teacher and left the room.

Gimli glared at the elf. So far he had been pretty lucky at the school. The students were still mostly human, so even though he was the only dwarf and there were a smattering of hobbits and unfortunately some orcs, there hadn’t been any elves. Until now.

And just look at the elf they got, he thought to himself. Standing there all prim and proper, perfect braids, not a hair out of place, standing straight-backed and tall like he was above everyone. Everything he despised about uppity elves.

Miss Landers flipped through the file quickly before telling the elf to introduce himself to the class. With that, the elf stood up even straighter and announced his name.

Gimli’s eyes widened in disgust. _Thranduilion_? Of all the elves to attend his school, it just had to be a son of Thranduil! Although Gimli had never met Thranduil, or any of his family, the name was mud to everyone in his extended family. He had never been told exactly what had happened all those years ago, but he knew his father despised the older elf, and he knew it would be his duty to hate the younger elf in turn. All dwarves grew up with the saying “Never trust an elf.”!

One of the students spoke: “Excuse me, Miss, is it a boy or a girl Miss? I can’t tell, what with all those braids and that hair!” The student, Éomer, looked at the students around him, nodding and giving them an “Am I right?” expression, stirring up their laughter even more.

The student had given Gimli a lot of grief when he started at the school, but despite himself, Gimli sniggered along with the rest of the class. Even Miss Landers had a half-smile on her face until she realised Legolas was watching her. She looked around the room and pointed to the empty desk beside Gimli.

“Go and sit there.”

Gimli watched as the elf walked over and sat down, unable to keep the disappointment off his face. The elf unpacked his bag, fastidiously setting out his books, pens and pencils on his desk and then lining them all up perfectly square to the desk and each other. Neither of them spoke to each other for the entire lesson and when the school break began, Legolas was packed and out the door before Gimli had time to blink.

This continued for several weeks, Gimli and the elf sitting next to each other and never speaking a word. Gimli hated every moment the elf – he refused to think of him by name – was near him. The only good thing about having an elf in the school was that all the teasing Gimli had endured when he started was now being inflicted on the elf.

During a break, Gimli had gone for a walk through the school grounds. He hated the school buildings and the way humans made everything look. Square concrete boxes with no soul. Give him stone and dwarvish stone masonry any day!

He was wandering alongside the school oval when he noticed a group of orcs ahead. Gimli stopped, wondering whether he should go a different way until he noticed the orcs were looking at someone. He followed their line of sight and saw the elf sitting by himself by the side fence, seemingly just staring at the fence.

Typical wood elf, Gimli thought. The elf had found the only spot in the school where there was a tree, as he was sitting where a tree had grown over the fence from a neighbouring property. The elf would be feeling right at home, Gimli thought to himself. There were no trees in the entire school, so the elf probably felt just as out of place as he did.

Gimli stopped that line of thought in a hurry. _Why, next you’ll even be feeling sorry for the damned elf_! 

As he started moving again, he realised the orcs had turned away from the elf and were looking towards a newcomer. It was Bolg, one of the most hated orcs in the school. Bolg had a reputation for violence and intolerance for anyone who was not an orc. Gimli once overheard a group of students discussing Bolg’s father, Azog, who was apparently in jail for murder. The students stopped talking when they realised Gimli was listening, so he never heard the full story.

Once Bolg reached the other orcs, they all turned and looked at the elf again. Gimli shook his head. One elf against all those orcs? He knew he should walk away, it wasn’t his problem what happened between the elf and the orcs. Why should he stick his neck out?

Gimli looked down as he felt the ground change to grass under his feet. He had subconsciously changed course and was now walking diagonally across the grass, headed straight towards the elf. Noticing the orcs were also headed towards the elf, he sped up, determined to get there first.

One of the orcs noticed Gimli and nudged Bolg. The orcs all looked at Gimli and stopped. They could get to the elf before the dwarf did, but Bolg wanted to get Legolas alone. He had private business with the elf and didn’t want anyone interfering.

Legolas looked up in surprise as Gimli sat down heavily next to him, but quickly resumed staring at the fence. Gimli noticed the orcs had turned back, Legolas hadn’t said anything so Gimli was not sure if he had even noticed the orcs. As he watched him more closely, he realised that even though the elf seemed motionless, his eyes flickered back and forth between the fence and the orcs. Maybe he had seen them after all.

When the orcs had disappeared, Legolas seemed to deflate. His gaze turned downwards and he folded his arms in front of him, huddling in on himself. Gimli amazed himself by feeling concerned for the elf and reached a hand out to his shoulder.

“Are you all right, elf?”

To his surprise, Legolas was shaking. Gimli left his hand there, hoping to give him comfort. Eventually, the elf stopped shaking and he shook Gimli’s hand off.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

Gimli snatched his hand back, instantly offended at the elf’s haughty tone of voice. “Well, fine then. I’ll leave you be.” He stood up and stomped off before Legolas had a chance to respond.

That day marked the first time Legolas was ever late for a class. When he did show up, he stood by the desk for a moment to get the attention of Gimli who was looking down at his school book, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Gimli looked up just as the teacher yelled at the elf to sit down, and was surprised to see a slight smile on Legolas’ face. It shocked him so much that he smiled back without meaning to. The elf sat down and the lesson continued as normal.

From that moment on, things became more relaxed between him and the elf. They were still pretty quiet during lessons, but eventually started saying hello and goodbye to each other. Then one day Legolas waited for him at the start of a break instead of instantly disappearing. After that, he started accompanying Legolas to his spot by the fence during the breaks. He didn’t understand Legolas’ fascination with a tree but sat with him regardless. He also started referring to Legolas by name, rather than just “the elf”.

By the time a place opened for Legolas in the Club, the two had become inseparable friends.

This friendship was solidified not long afterwards when Éomer, who had been one of the first human students at the club, took offence at something Gimli said to him. He retaliated with a threat and a dig at Gimli’s height. Éomer pointed his sword at Gimli but before he had a chance to do anything, Legolas was standing between the two with an arrow nocked and pointed at Éomer. Gimli’s eyes widened in surprise – he hadn’t even seen Legolas coming.

One of the instructors finally noticed the altercation and came over to sort it out, but the moment would remain with Gimli for a long time. Being defended by an elf was a concept that would seem strange to any other dwarf, but to Gimli, it was confirmation he had done the right thing by intervening the day the orcs had approached Legolas.

ooo000OOO000ooo

After Legolas finished his archery practice and spoke with the junior students clamouring around him asking questions, he walked over to where the dwarves were practising. He sat up in the stands and watched the end of Gimli’s lessons.

Gimli finished his lessons and then disappeared into one of the buildings with the other dwarves. Legolas leant forward and placed his elbows on his knees as he rested his head on his hands. Without anyone he was interested in watching, Legolas lost himself in thoughts of Aragorn and their brief meeting. A smile lit up his face as he thought of Aragorn’s bluish grey eyes and his wide smile.

“Whatcha smirking at, master elf?” Gimli asked, sitting next to Legolas.

Legolas shook his head, not quite ready to share his feelings for Aragorn. “Nothing.”

Gimli nudged Legolas’ upper arm with his shoulder. “Don’t give me that, you don’t smile like that just for nothing.”

Legolas nodded, knowing he couldn’t hide anything from Gimli. “A family of elves moved in next door this morning. They have a foster son. His name is Aragorn.” As he pronounced Aragorn’s name, the smile appeared back on his face.

Gimli nodded knowingly. “Aragorn? What sort of name is Aragorn for an elf?” he teased.

Legolas shrugged and glanced sideways at Gimli. “He’s a human,” he replied reluctantly.

“What?” Gimli guffawed. “You’ve fallen for a human. After all the things you’ve said about humans?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But when I saw him…” Legolas’ voice trailed away, trying to put into words how he seemed to have fallen for a human he had barely met.

Gimli laughed again, trying to imagine Legolas and a human. “You better introduce him to me. I’ve got to meet this human who can make the mighty Legolas fall so heavily.”

Legolas rolled his eyes at Gimli’s carrying on but his face soon grew serious again. “My father will never allow it.”

“Why not? Surely he can’t complain about you being with a human when he is married to one?”

“It’s not that, it’s who his foster family is. It’s the Peredhel family, his foster father is Elrond Peredhel.”

Gimli stopped laughing instantly. Legolas had only told him bits and pieces about what happened to his mother, but Gimli knew enough to know the significance of the identity of Aragorn’s foster family. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how lonely Legolas had been after Amdirwen’s death. Once again, he felt grateful that his parents were still together and that he had an older sibling who also looked out for him.

After a moment, Gimli pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Have you seen this?” he asked, wanting to distract his friend.

The paper was a flyer for a competition that was to be held in the adjoining nature reserve. Groups of students from the various Clubs were to compete in archery, swordsmanship and axe craft. It was a chance for students to interact and test their skills.

Legolas looked the flyer and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“Do you want to enter?”

“I would love to but we can’t – the teams have to have a minimum of three.”

Gimli sighed, he knew as well as Legolas did that no one at school would team up with them. “Let’s go over there and watch the training anyway. Who knows, we might find someone there who needs team members.”

Just as they stood up to leave they heard someone call out to them.

“Hey you two!”

“Hello Mr Bowman,” Gimli replied.

“Hi Gimli,” Bard turned to Legolas. “Do you want a lift home or are you staying here?”

Legolas shook his head. “No thanks, we were just about to head over to the reserve and see who was training for the competition.” Legolas pointed to the flyer in Gimli’s hand.

“I see. Are you going to be home in time for the barbeque?”

Legolas scoffed. “I’m not allowed to go.”

“Do you want to go?”

“My father will never allow it,” he insisted.

“That’s not what I asked you. I said, do you want to go?”

Legolas nodded reluctantly.

“Then you just leave your father to me.”

Legolas grinned, beginning to feel hopeful. He desperately wanted to see Aragorn again.

Bard gestured at Legolas’ gear. “Do you want me to take that for you?”

Legolas nodded with another smile. “Thank you.” He turned to Gimli. “Come on let’s go.”

Gimli said goodbye to Bard and the boys turned and made their way down the stands.

As he watched the two walk off, playfully pushing and shoving at each other and laughing as they teased each other, Bard could almost see the laughing, smiling elfling that Thranduil insisted Legolas used to be. With a sigh, Bard picked up Legolas’ gear and headed to the car. How _was_ he going to change Thranduil’s mind?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had an enjoyable Christmas and New Year!

Driving home from the club, Bard thought about the relationship between himself and “his” two elves. He remembered when things had been better between them, back when he first met Thranduil…

Bard had been asked to attend a White Council meeting that had been called to discuss the future of Lake-town. The Master of Lake-town was the official town representative, but Bard was also invited as he was known to have the good will of the residents.

Bard’s attention was immediately drawn to a tall, blond elf. Mirkwood had many trade deals in place with Lake-town, so Thranduil Oropherion had also been requested to attend. Bard had never seen anyone so regal and majestic looking. He had seen many elves before, but none of them came anywhere close to this particular elf! Thranduil’s presence was so distracting that Bard could barely concentrate on the meeting, despite never actually speaking to him.

Later that night, as he told his wife Skyla about the meeting, she could not help finding his little crush sweet and adorable. Over the next several months, her husband frequently spoke of Thranduil and of things he had said and done. She was not worried about it though as she knew nothing would ever come of it. Bard was a good man and would never do anything to hurt her or their children – the two they had or the child she was currently carrying.

Not long after Tilda was born, however, their family was rocked by something entirely different. Skyla was diagnosed with a malignant form of cancer. Months of treatment later confirmed what the doctors had suspected from the beginning: she could not be cured.

The night after the family had eaten at Galion’s restaurant, and a few weeks before her death, Skyla was watching the news when a story about a fatal traffic accident came on.

“Bard! Come in here!” she called.

Bard entered the room and immediately realised why she called him. In shock, he listened to the commentary.

_“Tragedy struck the elven community of Mirkwood today, when Amdirwen, wife of Thranduil Oropherion, was killed in a devastating car accident. The accident also left the former lady of Rivendell, Celebrían Peredhel, severely injured. Full details are still unknown but it is alleged that the former lord of Rivendell, Elrond Peredhel, world-class healer and husband of Celebrían, was present at the scene, as well as an undisclosed number of orcs._

_“Elrond treated Amdirwen at the scene but when the ambulances arrived she was pronounced dead._

_“Amdirwen, a former resident of Lothlórien, first came to the public eye after her fairytale whirlwind romance with Thranduil, shortly after moving to Mirkwood. She is survived by her husband and ten-year-old son, Legolas.”_

Bard sat down heavily as the story ended and tears sprung to his eyes. For months he had been faced with the prospect of his wife’s death, and finding out about the death of Thranduil’s wife brought all his emotions to the fore.

“He’s going to need a friend you know.”

Bard shook his head at Skyla. He couldn’t understand her fixation with pushing him towards Thranduil. Ever since her diagnosis, she had been encouraging him to reach out to Thranduil.

Skyla didn’t want Bard alone and withdrawn after her death and, recognising her husband’s attraction to Thranduil could be the perfect distraction, she wanted him to move on as soon as possible. Eating at Galion’s the day before was as close as Skyla had come to making that a reality. While they were there, she saw the look Thranduil had given Bard, and she felt confident there could be something between the two men. Even if it was just friendship.

“You’re amazing, you know,” Bard began. “Most women wouldn’t want their husbands going anywhere near another woman, or man.”

She smiled at him. “I just want you to be happy.”

Bard came over to her chair and they embraced, losing themselves in each other while they could.

Over the next couple of days, her health declined noticeably and she was hospitalised, one last time. She and Bard were alone in the room, once again watching the news when a story covering Amdirwen’s funeral began. They watched it in silence, knowing it would not be long before Bard and their children would be put through the same thing.

The camera focussed on a young elfling that could only be Legolas. He was clutching onto the hand of an older, dark-haired female elf, with another elfling about Legolas’ age standing close by them.

Bard’s heart broke as he watched Legolas. The child looked so forlorn. His blue eyes seemed huge in his pale face, and when a reporter approached him he turned and buried his face in the side of the woman.

“Leave the poor kid be,” Bard muttered angrily to himself.

Skyla reached over and took his hand comfortingly as they watched the woman pick Legolas up and walk away from the reporter.

“Promise me you’ll seek him out when I’m gone,” Skyla said afterwards.

Bard was not convinced Skyla was right that he and Thranduil would ever have a future, but by this stage, he would do anything Skyla wanted. He promised her he would contact Thranduil and, thankfully, she let the matter drop.

After Skyla died though, Bard’s promise was forgotten. He had three grieving children to deal with and a family to run. It took nearly a year, but finally, the four of them settled into a routine. They were still grieving but found a way of coping. Bain became very protective of his sisters and Sigrid took over the cooking and a lot of the household duties. Tilda, being less than two years old, did not understand why her mother was not there anymore and was subdued for a while, but quickly adapted to the new family dynamic.

During this year of adjustment, things changed once again when Lake-town was destroyed and Bard and Thranduil finally met face to face.

Mismanagement by the former Master of Lake-town and his corrupt staff led to a catastrophic fire that gutted the entire town. Knowing he would be investigated, and most likely prosecuted, the Master stole a substantial amount of the town’s gold and disappeared. This left Bard as the popular choice to take control of what was left of Lake-town. He had saved many lives during the catastrophe and his ancestor had previously played a significant role in saving the town from disaster.

Initially, Bard only intended to oversee the relocation of all survivors to the nearby abandoned city of Dale and see to the establishment of trade relations with the nearby dwarf colony at the Lonely Mountain. As time went on, it seemed he would not be able to step aside any time soon. Negotiations with the dwarves had stalled and his people were going hungry. As he began to despair for Dale’s future, Thranduil turned up out of the blue with a much-needed offer of assistance.

Thranduil too had issues with the Lonely Mountain dwarves: he was trying to retrieve some family heirlooms before the Council took over Mirkwood and he lost the chance to reclaim them. Thranduil offered Bard and the people of Dale access to supplies that would see them through until their issues with the dwarves were resolved. Thranduil stayed around long enough to team up with Bard and persuade the dwarves to honour their agreements with both Dale and Mirkwood.

Afterwards, the men went out for a meal to celebrate their success. Over many glasses of wine, they opened up to each other about the deaths of their wives and the issues of raising their children alone. Bard confessed he was going to hand the running of Dale over to the council as soon as he could. One thing the last year had taught him was the importance of family and, as far as he was concerned, his children were the only things worth fighting for. Thranduil spoke of how Legolas would be all he had left once Mirkwood was taken over.

The next day, Thranduil returned to Mirkwood after he and Bard promised to keep in touch.

Around this time, the White Council decided all the former Lords, Ladies, Kings, Queens and other former rulers throughout Middle Earth should all move to the White City to be in one central location.

Thranduil was one of the first to move. The council had now taken over the running of Mirkwood and Thranduil could not bear to watch the council destroy his former home. He also wanted to escape the memories of Amdirwen. Thranduil and Legolas temporarily moved into a luxury, two-bedroom apartment. The council would eventually supply them with a proper family home, but their designated housing estate was still under construction.

Bard and his children also moved to the White City prior to the housing estate being completed. This gave him a chance to see Thranduil in person more often. They began to have dinner in the city on a regular basis but were yet to meet the other’s children.

One night, Bard received a phone call from Thranduil.

“I have sent Legolas to a babysitter for the night. Would you like to come to my house for dinner? I have some new wine to try,” Thranduil paused. “You could stay the night. This wine is rather potent, and I would not want to risk you driving home afterwards.”

Bard held his breath. Was Thranduil _only_ asking him over for dinner and wine? Thranduil had not appeared to show any interest in things developing between them, but Bard knew that public signs of affection were not in the nature of elves. Was this Thranduil’s way of saying he wanted more?

“You can sleep on the lounge.” The disappointment in Thranduil’s voice made Bard realise he had been silent too long.

“No, no, that’s fine,” he replied quickly. “I would like that very much.”

After they finished on the phone, Bard quickly made arrangements for a friend to look after his kids overnight and he drove to Thranduil’s apartment.

Thranduil was correct about the wine – it was indeed very potent, a rare batch of Dorwinion wine Bard had not tried before. Later in the night the two of them sat on the large sofa. They had talked throughout the night but were now just sitting quietly together. Bard was lulled by the feel of the heat of Thranduil’s body next to him and, embarrassingly, felt his head drooping against Thranduil’s shoulder. He was so comfortable and relaxed that he soon fell asleep slumped against Thranduil.

He woke the next morning to the sound of voices, stretched out on his back on the sofa. His eyes stubbornly refused to open but he could tell the voices were in another room. He recognised one voice as Thranduil’s but could not recognise the other. It was the voice of a younger person but not that of a child’s. Frowning to himself, he turned onto his side and forced his eyes open. He jumped as he saw someone – Legolas – standing right up close to him, staring down at him with a frown on his face.

The two looked at each other without saying anything for a solid minute. Bard finally opened his mouth to say something when Legolas spoke over the top of him.

“That’s my mother’s rug, not yours.”

Bard looked at himself to see he had been covered by the throw rug he had seen on the back of a lounge chair the night before.

“It’s a very nice rug,” he offered.

Legolas didn’t blink.

Bard sat up to make himself at a level height with Legolas. “It kept me very warm.”

Still no reaction.

Bard reached his hand out to shake. “I’m Bard Bowman, pleased to meet you.”

Legolas’ mouth tightened but he shook the hand back and said, “I am Legolas Thranduilion, well met.” He clearly did not want to shake hands but did so anyway, politeness having been bred into him early on.

Bard thought over what he knew of the eleven-year-old standing in front of him. “I hear you like archery.”

Legolas’ face brightened and he opened his mouth to reply before he remembered he was cross with the human for using his mother’s rug. He shut his mouth and made himself look stern again. He nodded once at Bard.

Bard relaxed, knowing he had found a way to get through to Legolas. He kept at Legolas with probing questions about Legolas’ prowess with a bow, playing up how good Legolas was. By the time Thranduil came looking for them, he and Legolas were old friends. Legolas giggled as Bard regaled him with a story about a student who could not shoot straight no matter how much help he received.

Thranduil stood in the doorway with his arms folded watching them. He had been annoyed with the babysitter for bringing Legolas back sooner than arranged but was distracted by the sight of his son and his… well, he didn’t quite know what to call Bard at this stage.

Thranduil hadn’t seen Legolas laugh so much in quite a while and felt a sudden stab of jealousy that Bard had broken through to him so easily. He entered the room and sat next to Bard to listen to the rest of the story. Surprisingly, he found himself laughing along with Legolas, his jealousy pushed aside.

Over the next couple of months, Legolas would join Bard and his father when they went out, the three of them becoming very close. With archery being a mutual interest, Bard occasionally took Legolas out by himself to an archery range he used. Thranduil was not interested in archery and was content to let the two go on their own. He still hadn’t met Bard’s kids yet but wasn’t bothered by it knowing that Bard would not have met Legolas either if the babysitter hadn’t returned him early that day.

The only cloud in their relationship was Thranduil’s worsening obsession with digging into what had happened with his wife. Bard could not understand why Thranduil would not let the matter drop considering the police investigation had been long completed. Sometimes Bard felt it was more important to Thranduil than either Legolas or himself. Increasing his frustration, Thranduil would not discuss what he was investigating, or why he felt it necessary.

One day, Bard brought Legolas home from the archery range to find Thranduil was still out on one of his investigations. After trying to contact Thranduil for over an hour, and with neither of them having a key, Bard took Legolas to a nearby park to wait.

Thranduil eventually realised the time and rushed home only to find no one there. He rang Bard’s house but got no answer. As he sat there, thinking desperately of what to do next, a voice nagged at the back of his mind. Before leaving for Rohan, Himelnith had spoken to him again about neglecting Legolas in favour of his search and how Legolas needed him.

Thranduil was suddenly angry at everything; people telling him what to do, all the people hampering his investigations, the Council for everything they had done to ruin his life, the damned Peredhels, Bard for not being there, Legolas for always being there wanting things. Why was no one ever concerned about what he wanted?!

Thranduil’s ire turned towards Bard. Bard should be there with his son, he should have waited until Thranduil turned up or at the very least, left him a note. He went inside and wrote his own note, leaving it under the front door and went out again. Thranduil drove around for a while, trying to think of where they could be. He eventually remembered the day he, Bard and Legolas had stopped for an ice cream in a nearby park and he decided to look there next.

He parked the car as close as he could and ran into the park. He was both relieved and annoyed to see Legolas playing happily with some human children while Bard watched on. Bard saw him coming out of the corner of his eye and turned to him with a smile. The smile disappeared when he saw the thunderous look on Thranduil’s face.

“Where have you been?” Thranduil snapped.

Bard’s eyes widened. Thranduil had never been angry with him before and the force of his anger surprised him.

“We waited over an hour for you before coming here,” Bard replied, trying to remain calm. “I called you but got no answer.”

“I did not give you permission to bring my son here, or to associate with these…” Thranduil gestured dismissively at the children “…humans.”

Bard straightened, no longer bothered with staying calm. “These humans as you call them are my kids. And they were playing together, it’s what normal kids do.” No one, not even Thranduil, had the right to talk down to his kids.

Thranduil glared at the children, noting the family resemblance. The oldest two of the humans were glaring at Thranduil, angry with him for upsetting their father and for the way he spoke about them. Legolas looked mortified at his father’s behaviour.

Thranduil knew he should not let his temper control him but felt helpless to resist.

“Are you insinuating my child is not normal?”

Bard glanced at Legolas in shock before turning back to Thranduil. “What? No! That’s not what I said at all! Don’t put words in my mouth.” The two men glared at each other, no longer giving any thought to reining in their tempers.

“Come, Legolas, we are going home.”

Legolas looked back up at Bard pleadingly, not wanting to leave. He’d had a fun afternoon playing with Bard’s children and didn’t want to go home alone with his father when he was so angry.

Legolas didn’t know quite how things worked between adults yet, but he thought his Ada and Bard were going to be boyfriends. Now they were arguing like Ada and Nana had before she died. He didn’t want to lose Bard like he lost his Nana. Bard was the only one who took him to archery and talked to him and did stuff with him. His father was always too busy “working”.

“Is Bard coming too?” he asked Thranduil.

“No, Bard needs to go home. He has done enough today.”

Bard watched as Thranduil grabbed Legolas’ hand and dragged him away. He took half a step. “Thranduil! Thranduil, don’t walk away from me like this!”

Thranduil paused briefly but started walking again without turning around. “We have nothing more to say to each other.”

Bard was in complete shock. There hadn’t been any hint of trouble in their relationship but over the next couple of weeks, Thranduil refused to take his calls and refused to see him. Legolas called him once in the middle of the night, in tears over what was happening, but Thranduil heard them on the phone and forbade Bard from talking to Legolas again without his permission.

After several months, Bard began to accept that whatever there was between them was over. He missed Legolas and Thranduil but it seemed there was nothing he could do. He gave up trying to contact Thranduil and decided to move on.

Two years later, Legolas and Thranduil blew back into his life.

On Legolas’ birthday he had asked his father for a new bow. He had outgrown his old bow and it was overdue to be upgraded. Thranduil drove him into the city and they parked a couple of blocks away from the shop Legolas wanted to go to. As they approached the shop, Thranduil grabbed Legolas’ shoulder angrily.

“What are you playing at Legolas?”

Legolas didn’t reply, just giving him the same little smile that Amdirwen would give him when she was plotting something. Legolas pushed open the door to the shop and went in leaving Thranduil outside glaring at the sign on the shop front that said “Bowman Archery Supplies”.

Bard looked up in surprise as Legolas walked in. Legolas was the last person he expected to see at his shop.

The shop door opened again and Thranduil stepped in. “Legolas, you have a lot of explaining to do!”

At thirteen, Legolas had grown nearly as tall as his father. Bard noticed that he also looked older, the smiling eleven-year-old he knew had been replaced by a solemn teenager. Clearly, things had not improved between father and son. He was reassured somewhat by the familiar-looking, cheeky grin Legolas sent him before turning away to look at the bows.

Thranduil stood in the doorway looking around at everything but Bard. Bard stood behind the counter, debating whether to stay there and wait for Thranduil to say something or whether to go and help Legolas. He watched as Legolas said something to Thranduil too quietly for him to hear. Whatever he said caused Thranduil to scowl at him. Eventually though, Thranduil looked around at Bard and, with obvious reluctance, walked over.

Bard, determined not to be the first one to speak, waited patiently for Thranduil to say something.

“I am sorry.”

Bard blinked, not quite believing Thranduil had said that. An apology from Thranduil was unexpected.

“Errr…”

“My son has informed me, on numerous occasions, that my behaviour was unacceptable. He says,” Thranduil looked back at the younger elf a moment, “that I should have been more communicative.”

Bard raised an eyebrow. He really had no idea what to say.

“You should know that I have ceased my investigations into my wife’s death.” Thranduil looked downwards before letting his shoulders slump. “I have missed you,” he added quietly.

Bard closed his eyes as he processed what Thranduil said. Two years he had been running this shop, working himself into the ground both to support his family but mostly to take his mind off Thranduil and what could have been. Now Thranduil was standing here before him, saying everything he had wanted to hear two years ago. _Was it too late?_

“Legolas has missed you too.”

Bard looked over at Legolas. He had chosen a new bow and was staring out the front window, waiting for the adults to sort themselves out. Looking back at Thranduil, Bard was surprised to see a vulnerable look on his face. He nodded in agreement. “I have missed you both as well.”

Thranduil looked at him hopefully. “Can we go out for dinner?” He raised a hand as Bard opened his mouth to reply. “Just you and me, out in public. Just to see if we still have any common ground. Then, if things go okay, I would like to meet your children.” His mouth twitched. “Properly.”

Bard found himself smiling back at Thranduil. He quite liked this new Thranduil. “OK,” he replied.

With a sigh of relief, Thranduil turned to look at Legolas as he walked up to them.

“All sorted?” Legolas grinned at them.

“My son, the matchmaker,” Thranduil smiled at Bard.

Bard nodded. Things would be better this time, he thought.

 

ooo000OOO000ooo

 

 

As Bard arrived back at the house he and his kids now shared with Thranduil and Legolas, he smiled as he thought of Skyla and her attempts to bring the two together. She and Legolas would have got along perfectly.

With a sigh, he got out the car and went inside to look for Thranduil. It was time to convince him to let Legolas go to the barbeque.


	6. Chapter 6

After spending a pleasant afternoon with Gimli at the reserve, Legolas felt reluctant to return home.

He and Gimli had watched the training sessions and, as expected, no one wanted them in their team. The human teams flat-out refused to consider either of them. The elven teams were keen to have Legolas, knowing his skills with a bow, but didn’t want Gimli as well and, likewise, the dwarvish teams didn’t want Legolas. One of the dwarf teams consisting of some of Kili’s friends who knew of his training session with Legolas considered it, but ultimately decided that accepting an elf would not work.

Regardless, the afternoon gave them the opportunity to practise their own skills and observe the skills of the other competitors. They made their way around the course, working out where they would be strong together and where they would struggle without a recognised swordsman in their team. They also tried unsuccessfully to think up a good team name.

When they left, instead of taking a bus Legolas walked home as slowly as he could. The only thing keeping him moving at all was the hope of seeing Aragorn. When he eventually arrived, he dawdled outside a while, trying hard not to stare at the Peredhel’s house.

Once he got inside and shut the door, he had a distinct feeling of déjà vu seeing his step-siblings sitting on the lounge watching him. Bain and, disappointingly, Sigrid were glaring at him. Tilda simply looked upset. Legolas looked around, half expecting to see his father standing there glaring at him too.

He took a breath. “What’s going on?”

“Our Da’s upset because of you!” Bain replied.

"Me?"

“Yeah you, you stupid pointy eared elf. Our Da had a fight with your da when he got home from that bloody club and now they’re both ignoring each other!”

Several thoughts raced through Legolas’ head. His father and Bard had argued? He hadn’t seen them argue once since they got back together, they were so sickeningly in love. And, if they had argued, it meant Thranduil had come out of his dissociative state far quicker than before. Legolas also felt a quick flash of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would see Aragorn tonight after all.

“It’s all your fault!” Bain continued on. “If you didn’t want to go to that stupid barb…”

“That’s enough Bain!” Bard interrupted, entering the room.

“But it’s true.”

“I said enough!”

Bain flopped backwards on the lounge, beginning to sulk.

“Now,” Bard continued. “All of us, except for Thranduil, are going to the barbeque and I have told Dr Peredhel that we will be there soon. So I suggest you all go and get yourself ready.”

“I’m not gonna visit a bunch of elves, it’s bad enough having to see this one every day,” Bain muttered, gesturing rudely at Legolas.

“Fine. Stay home then. I’m sure you and Thranduil will have lots of things to talk about.”

Tilda laughed as Bain screwed his nose up in disgust at the thought of being alone with their step-father all night.

Bard smirked as well. “It’s up to you.”

Not appreciating his father’s response, Bain muttered something unintelligible under his breath and stormed upstairs to his room. Bard looked at Legolas and the two girls.

"Come on you lot," he said. “Go and get ready.”

The girls got up straight away and went to their rooms, Sigrid already lost in thoughts of the twins. Legolas followed behind after saying a quiet thank you to Bard.

Alone in his room, Legolas grinned. He was going to see Aragorn! Legolas grabbed his bag of archery gear off the end of the bed where Bard had left it and put it away. Then he stripped down, ready to shower. As he walked towards his en suite bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Usually, he avoided looking at himself in the mirror, especially when naked, but this time he stopped and looked himself over critically.

Legolas did not consider himself to be particularly good-looking, despite having received plenty of attention from other elves as he grew. Compared to his father, he was shorter, less well-built and definitely weaker. _I would never have made it as a prince,_ he thought to himself.

He looked at his hairless chest and thought about what Aragorn’s might look like. He knew that, unlike elves, human males were often hairy-chested and he wondered what it felt like. He did know what it could look like, having seen Bard shirtless once.

Not long after Thranduil and Bard got back together, Legolas had needed to get up in the middle of the night. As he went past his father’s bedroom, the door was slightly ajar and he stopped when he saw Bard standing by end of the bed. Thranduil appeared and ran his fingers through the hair on Bard’s chest. Legolas was fascinated, he had never seen anything like it. Was it soft like normal hair? Thranduil bent his head and started to kiss Bard, causing Legolas to flee. They recently had sex education classes at school and now that Legolas knew what happened, the thought of his father doing “sex things” was too horrid for the thirteen-year-old to contemplate.

Now seventeen, he knew sex wasn’t the horrible sounding thing he once thought, but still, he had never considered it with a human. His father once told him humans – especially males – could barely control themselves and only ever thought about sex. That seemed to be confirmed when Bard found a bunch of magazines with pictures of naked women hidden under Bain’s mattress. Elves usually only had one partner during their lifetimes, and sleeping with multiple people was almost unheard of. The outrage in the elven community when Thranduil dared to re-marry still astounded Legolas.

Legolas’ gaze moved further down his torso until he caught sight of some of the bruises on his side. He frowned and moved on quickly, not wanting to think about _that_. He jumped in the shower and washed quickly. When he got back to the bedroom he stood in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear.

Legolas considered a few outfits, dismissing them almost instantly. He laughed quietly to himself because Sigrid was known for going through nearly her entire wardrobe before deciding what to wear, and here he was doing something similar. He hoped he didn’t end up with his bed covered in rejected clothes like Sigrid often did. He wondered what Aragorn would wear. Legolas finally decided on something and stood before the mirror wondering if Aragorn would like it. His eyes widened in horror as he realised he had been wearing his dressing gown when Aragorn saw him earlier. _No wonder he smiled at me,_ Legolas thought, _he probably thought I was a complete slob_.

When he went back downstairs, he found Bain waiting with Bard. Apparently Bain had decided the thought of staying home alone with Thranduil was worse than going to the barbeque. Once the girls came down, they headed off and Bard led them around to the Peredhel’s back yard as arranged with Elrond earlier.

The two families stood facing each other uneasily; four humans and one elf looking back at the family of four elves and one human. 

Elrond was surprised to see Legolas with them. He looked at Bard with a newfound sense of respect – anyone who could convince the obstinate mule called Thranduil Oropherion to change his mind must have some extraordinary powers of persuasion!

Bard was the first to speak, going up to Elrond and offering his hand. “Thanks for inviting us over.”

“No problem,” Elrond replied, shaking Bard’s hand.

The ice broken, the families split up. The twins turned their full charms onto Sigrid while Arwen spoke to Tilda, who still thought Arwen was the prettiest lady she had ever seen. After a pause, Bain followed the twins. He had planned to stay with Aragorn as he was the only other human boy there, but the idiot seemed to be intent on making googly eyes at bloody Legolas. When the adults headed towards the barbeque, Aragorn and Legolas were left alone smiling awkwardly at each other. Neither of them seemed to know what to say.

Aragorn smiled tentatively and had just opened his mouth to speak when Elladan called out to them.

“Hey Estel, we’re giving the others the grand tour. You two coming?”

Aragorn looked questioningly at Legolas who shrugged in response.

“Estel? I thought his name was Aragorn,” they heard Bain say in the distance.

“Come on then,” Aragorn said and they followed the others into the house. He had to resist an urge to place his hand on Legolas’ back to guide him to the house.

Arwen and Tilda were already inside, and Tilda started speaking the moment they got inside. “Look, their house is exactly the same as ours but backwards, it’s like looking in a mirror!”

“They used the same plan for all houses in this street,” confirmed Elladan. “Just reversing the layout every other house.” Elladan had a keen interest in architecture and had studied the city plans once the White Council announced their plan to relocate them to a central area.

They went upstairs to look at the bedrooms. Bain snorted when they saw that Arwen had the same bedroom as Legolas. “You’ve got the girlie room.”

The twins ignored him, having already learnt to ignore Bain when he spoke about Legolas, and carried on with the tour. The last room they went to was Aragorn’s, who had the same room as Bain. As Legolas looked around, he saw a sword mounted on the wall above Aragorn’s bed. He smiled as an idea formed in his head – although he would have to speak to Gimli first.

Tilda stood beside him as he looked up at the sword. “Is that in elvish?” she asked, referring to the nameplate under the sword.

“Yes, it’s in Quenya, though not many elves speak that language anymore.”

“How do you pronounce it?”

“Andúril.”

“And what does it mean?”

“It means ‘Flame of the West’,” Aragorn answered, coming up behind them. “It used to be called Narsil but after it broke and I had it fixed, I decided to change its name. It’s kind of a family heirloom. It’s been in my family for generations.”

As he stood next to Legolas, his hand twitched a few times as he resisted the urge to rest his hand on Legolas’ back again or touch his arm. Over the other side of the room, Elrohir saw what he was doing and nudged his twin.

Ever since he was a toddler, Aragorn had been more “touchy feely” than the rest of the Peredhel family, always hugging and putting his arms around people he liked. None of the Peredhels minded, but when living in Rivendell it took many elves by surprise to be hugged by the young human. To most elves, public signs of affection were frowned on. As he grew and became more aware of the differences between elves and humans, Aragorn became more restrained, restricting his displays of affection to his immediate family. It seemed Legolas’ presence had brought these characteristics back into the open again.

Elladan and Elrohir stood and watched him with identical grins on their faces. They looked at each other and silently agreed: so much fun to be had!

Elrond called them downstairs to help with the food so they left Aragorn’s room and congregated in the outdoor entertainment area. Arwen helped Elrond and Bard with setting out the food they had cooked while everyone else was upstairs. Then Elladan and Elrohir took over, serving out food to everyone while treating Tilda and especially Sigrid like royalty. Legolas couldn’t help but laugh at the fuss the twins made of the girls. Sigrid spent most of the night blushing, especially when Elrohir concentrated on her alone.

After they ate, everyone drifted away into groups. The adults went inside to the lounge to have a few drinks. The twins took an arm each of Sigrid’s and escorted her to the pool area; Bain tagging along again, determined to prove his worth to the twins. Arwen took Tilda upstairs and showed her various ways the Imladris elves braided their hair.

Aragorn took Legolas and sat them on a bench underneath a tree overlooking a series of flower beds. At first, they sat there awkwardly, still unsure of what to say. Aragorn may have grown up with elves, but he did not know much about Mirkwood elves. He knew there was bad blood between his foster father and Legolas’ father but not the details. Legolas knew the details but did not know how the feud would affect Aragorn’s thoughts about his family, and more importantly him. As the night wore on, they opened up about themselves, their lives and their interests. They were both surprised how easy they found it to talk to each other.

Their conversation petered out into a comfortable silence and they sat watching the last of the sunset. Legolas became aware of the distance between them and suddenly wished he had sat closer to Aragorn. Aragorn must have had similar thoughts as Legolas realised the human had slid a little closer and placed his hand between them on the bench. Legolas, too shy to make an obvious move, also rested his hand on the bench beside him, not close enough to touch but close enough to feel the heat from Aragorn’s hand.

Legolas had just started to reach out a finger towards Aragorn when he heard Bard call out it was time to go home. He jerked his hand away hurriedly, giving Aragorn an embarrassed grin.

Aragorn watched as the families said their goodbyes then Legolas and the Bowmans left. He turned to go back inside but found Elladan and Elrohir waiting. He sighed quietly, recognising the grins on their faces only too well.

“Oh Legolas,” Elrohir exclaimed. “You’re so pretty!”

“Oh Aragorn, you say the sweetest things.” Elladan pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, pretending to swoon and fall backwards, allowing Elrohir to catch him in one arm.

Elrohir looked down at his twin with a phony look of concern. “Don’t worry my darling Legolas, I will always catch you!”

Arwen came over and punched so Elrohir hard on the arm holding Elladan that he pulled his arm back involuntarily, causing Elladan to fall to the ground in a heap.

“Hey, what did you do that for!” Elladan growled as he dusted himself off.

Arwen gave him a glare that would leave even Elrond quaking in his boots before turning around and ushering the beetroot-red Aragorn inside.

Elrond watched from the upstairs balcony with concern etched onto his face. He too had seen the warning signs that Aragorn was falling for their new neighbour and dreaded seeing Aragorn get hurt. Again. He didn’t know if it was a human trait, but Aragorn had a history of falling for people who were the wrong choice for him. As far as Elrond could see, Aragorn getting involved with a son of Thranduil could only end badly. He sighed resignedly – he knew he had to talk with Aragorn.

Aragorn was in his room when Elrond knocked on the door.

“Can I come in?”

Aragorn nodded. Elrond sat on the bed next to Aragorn and looked out the window while he decided what to say.

“I know this subject embarrasses you, but I need you to be careful.”

Aragorn looked at him in confusion.

Elrond continued, “Legolas is not like us. He’s a full-blooded Sindarin elf. And you know that normally elves bond to only one person. They will only have se…”

“Ada!” Aragorn exclaimed and screwed up his nose. “Is this going to be one of those sex talks about hormones and how disgusting we humans are?”

Elrond shook his head, “I’m not saying that at all.” He took a breath. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Aragorn looked away from Elrond, his mouth tightening. He knew what Elrond was referring to; he knew he’d made mistakes in the past but he also knew he’d grown since. “I’m older now,” he said eventually. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

Elrond smiled back at him and stood up. “I know you won’t. But just be careful anyway.”

“Sure, Ada,” Aragorn replied.

As he lay in bed, Aragorn first thought of Legolas and their conversation that night. He tried to remember everything Legolas had told him about himself, not wanting to forget a single detail. Despite himself, his thoughts started to drift into the past and to his previous… infatuations. He understood his foster father’s concern – in the past, he had shown a tendency to fall madly for people who hindsight showed were not right for him.

The first had been Arwen.

When Aragorn was first fostered by the Peredhel family and given the name Estel, he grew closest to Arwen as she was the nearest to him in age. After he learnt to walk he followed her around like a faithful puppy whenever she was in Imladris. Following the disappearance of her mother, Arwen continued to visit Lothlórien for extended periods of time. Estel felt her absence the keenest and looked forward to the days she returned.

One day, when Estel was twelve, Arwen returned from one of these trips. He saw her walking towards him and was suddenly struck by how beautiful she was. Aragorn had recently entered puberty and was still adjusting to the changes in his body. He couldn’t remember Arwen ever looking so otherworldly. Sunset was approaching, and in the dusk, it seemed like Estel had fallen into a dream.

Estel ran up to her and hugged her. Arwen hugged him back with a smile, accustomed to her foster brother’s exuberance. The hug went on for a long time, even for Estel, and Arwen started to notice that he had grown since she last saw him – he was taller and had developed more muscles. When they finally let go she also noticed the shadow of a beard and moustache on his face.

If Aragorn had followed Arwen around a lot before, now he was barely parted from her. He was also more attentive, constantly giving her gifts and flowers. Arwen didn’t understand these changes in his behaviour completely, having only been a baby when the twins went through the elven version of puberty. Like anyone would, she was flattered by the attention and did nothing to discourage him, despite noticing her father frowning every time Estel gave her another gift.

The next time she went to Lothlórien, Estel and the twins travelled there later to visit her. Arwen had not been at her grandparents’ home when the boys arrived so Aragorn went to Cerin Amroth, a favourite place of both of them, and waited for her.

As she approached him, she noticed he was playing with a ring on his finger. It was the Ring of Barahir, a ring that along with a broken sword had been given to him by Elrond when he told him his name was actually Aragorn.

After he greeted her, Aragorn offered his ring to her and asked if she would be his girlfriend. Arwen was taken aback by the question – it was not something she had ever considered. She had never looked at another person and thought about having a relationship with them, let alone with Aragorn. She thought about all the gifts Aragorn had given her over the past months and suddenly understood her father’s concern.

Aragorn was heart-broken by her rejection. He had been convinced Arwen and he were destined to be together. They would get married and have a son and at least three daughters. He would build her a white castle for them to rule over. Or so he thought.

After Arwen, there was a procession of others who Aragorn developed crushes on, both male and female. There was the occasional human but, as he lived in Imladris, it was mostly elves. None of them were serious until he met Glorfindel and Erestor.

He had known Erestor for a while, as Erestor helped Elrond with the running of Imladris. One day when Aragorn came home from school he saw Erestor was there. He didn’t think anything of it until he got inside and came to a complete stop when he saw a blond elf standing beside Erestor. Aragorn’s eyes widened, all his previous crushes – even Arwen – seemed like nothing compared to this golden-haired wonder standing in front of him.

He learnt the elf was called Glorfindel and that he was some kind of legendary warrior who had served in the elven army previously. He now lived in Imladris, to serve Lord Elrond, and was also Erestor’s flatmate.

Once again, Aragorn was smitten.

When Glorfindel started tutoring upcoming warriors in swordplay, Aragorn was one of the first to sign up. He wasn’t technically a warrior, but Glorfindel was happy to make an exception for a Peredhel, especially a student as keen as Aragorn. After Arwen, Aragorn knew better than to constantly give gifts to Glorfindel to signify his interest, so he contented himself with being the best student he could and by trying to show how mature he was. He worked hard with his sword and took extra lessons from Glorfindel to spend as much time with him as he could. Outside of the lessons, Glorfindel was also at their house a lot. He would come with Erestor when he was there to discuss issues with Elrond, and Aragorn would talk to him as much as he could.

As the months went on, Aragorn had all but convinced himself there could be something between himself and Glorfindel, if only he was a bit older. Elladan and Elrohir did their share of teasing him about worshipping Glorfindel, and telling him he better not let Erestor find out, but Aragorn simply wrote this off as part of the standard teasing from the twins.

Aragorn didn’t understand the friendship between Glorfindel and Erestor: to him, they were too different. Glorfindel was outdoorsy and athletic, outgoing and friendly. Erestor, on the other hand, was an indoor person, very bookish, and to Aragorn, he seemed cold and withdrawn. Aragorn had never seen any signs of affection between the two and, completely forgetting elves do not show affection publicly, decided it proved that only friendship existed between them, no matter what the twins said.

About six months before the Peredhels left Imladris, they hosted a farewell gathering for all the families that would eventually move out. Aragorn had spent months working on a custom scabbard and belt for Glorfindel. He had meticulously researched Glorfindel’s family history and had carefully worked Glorfindel’s family emblem into the leather. He decided the party would be a good place to give the gift to Glorfindel and announce his intentions towards him.

When it came time to give the present, Aragorn had a last-minute panic attack about the quality of what he made and wanted a second opinion. He didn’t want to ask his family so, through lack of any other option, he approached Erestor.

Erestor looked at him in shock as he explained what he had done and why. He also felt a brief flash of anger towards Glorfindel. Everyone had seen how Aragorn felt about Glorfindel – the human’s emotions were never well hidden – and Erestor had told Glorfindel many times he needed to tell Aragorn of their relationship before it went too far. Glorfindel had laughed him off, saying humans fell in and out of love all the time and Aragorn would be no different.

Aragorn mistook Erestor’s expression to mean his workmanship was terrible.

“Aragorn,” Erestor said gently. “I’m sorry, but Glorfindel is already in a relationship.”

Aragorn shook his head wildly. “No, no, he can’t be. I’ve never seen him with anyone.”

Erestor looked at the ground, unable to look Aragorn in the eye.

Aragorn opened his mouth to speak again when he noticed the expression on Erestor’s face. Suddenly the twin’s teasing came back to haunt him.

“Y-you?” he asked brokenly.

Erestor nodded. “I’m sorry Aragorn. I wanted to tell you.”

Aragorn looked at the scabbard in his hands, and in a sudden fit of temper, twisted it out of shape and threw it to the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his foot. He muttered about being an idiot and wasting his time before he turned and fled.

Erestor picked up the scabbard and started brushing the dirt off. He saw Elrond and Glorfindel approach, both having seen Aragorn run off. He exchanged a glance with Elrond and looked pointedly at Glorfindel, confirming Elrond’s suspicions.

“I told you that you needed to speak to Aragorn,” Erestor snapped, slamming the scabbard against Glorfindel’s chest.

Glorfindel looked at him in confusion, his hands coming up to take the scabbard. “What is this?”

“Aragorn made it for you, to show you how he felt about you!”

Glorfindel had time to give Elrond a guilty look before Elrond walked away to find his foster son.

He found Aragorn in his bedroom, the twins and Arwen already on the bed surrounding him. Elrond came in and stayed just long enough to give Aragorn a hug before leaving them alone. He knew that his children would take care of each other and, in the meantime, he had a certain blond-haired elf to remove from his property.

After that, Aragorn swore off all romantic attachments, and in the six months until they moved to the White City, he succeeded. Meeting Legolas, however, seemed to have changed his mind. He just hoped that things with Legolas would turn out differently.


End file.
